Beside Still Waters
by AmyZini
Summary: Separated by years, yet tied to each other through the birth of a child, Edward and Bella struggle to work together when confronted with the unthinkable.
1. Chapter 1

**Beside Still Waters**

_Walk me to the riverside, where the water runs so deep  
Push me to the edge of fine, so far down I cannot see  
Drown me in a grief so real, I cannot feel the sun  
Drop me to my knees, oh lord, forgive the things I've done…_

_Prologue_

It wasn't a conscious decision to dive in, but like everything else where Bella was concerned, I felt moved by a force I couldn't explain.

I'd noticed her horsing around with a circle of friends on the cliffs at La Push beach for the better part of an hour. She was the only girl in the group, but didn't seem at all intimidated by the escalating rowdiness. When the yelling started, I began to pay closer attention. They seemed to be egging each other on, and I watched as one boy after another took a running leap off the cliff to the catcalls and laughter of his friends. Emerging triumphant from the water, he would rejoin the group to watch the next person go. Eventually, the only one that hadn't jumped was the girl, and for a moment it seemed like she would back down. I could hear bits of indistinct banter coupled with words of encouragement, and she suddenly squared her shoulders and walked to the edge. She hesitated a long moment, then looked back, before straightening and launching herself over the side. Someone called out "Swan dive, baby!" and I heard a large splash as I watched her enter the ocean.

From my vantage point lower on the cliff, I waited for her to resurface, but the water remained unbroken. I didn't stop to think, didn't consider whether I was truly strong enough to swim against the current. I found myself diving down into the deep, cold blue, unable to see anything, yet somehow sure I would find her. My hands brushed against her hair, then wrapped around her waist as I fought to bring us back into the light.

As we lay on the shore gasping for air, it was hard not to stare. Pale skin, long dark hair, brown eyes…she began to shake with cold, and I wrapped myself around her, feeling the exact moment she relaxed into me. Her eyes closed, and I felt something fundamental shift; I no longer wondered what had brought me down to the beach that day.

**‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›**

Our chance encounter at a restaurant in Seattle had taken me by surprise; if I'd seen her before she'd seen me I probably would have ducked out of sight to hide like a coward. Instead I froze as she approached; dread coursing through me at the tongue-lashing I was sure to receive. It's not like I didn't deserve it, and worse. Instead, she grabbed my arm gently while looking in my eyes.

"_Edward?" _

We hastily exchanged numbers, Renee glancing around nervously for any sign of Charlie's imminent arrival. I understood what her actions meant—we shouldn't be seen talking—and a whole new level of shame coursed through me. I had earned this—Bella's father had every reason in the world to hate me. He had entrusted me with his daughter, and I had failed him when I had failed her.

But I was so very tired of running.

And, whether I deserved it or not, I wanted to see my daughter…and my wife.

We had divorced, of course—that's what the paperwork said. That's what my mother told her friends at the club, and my grandparents when they'd asked. _In the long run, it will be better for everyone_…I could still hear her words all these years later. I'd wanted to scream _better for whom…_but had kept my head down and said nothing, convinced that what I had done could not be undone.

During my lowest point, I had received an invitation from my uncle Alec to summer in North Carolina. It had seemed the best way—maybe the only way—to put enough distance between myself and everything I needed to forget. So once again, when given the opportunity, I had run...

**‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›**

My hands were shaking so badly I almost couldn't dial the phone. I sent up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening. _Please let Renee pick up and not Charlie…let it be Renee._

"Hello?"

I took a deep breath. "Renee, it's Edward."

"Oh, Edward. I'm _really, really_ glad you called. How _are_ you?"

And I told her. Not every little detail, but enough. I needed her to know the depth of my regret; needed her to understand how sorry I truly was and how much I wanted to find a way to repair what I'd destroyed. More than anything, she had to know that I still loved her daughter, and that being separated from my own was more than I could bear. Would she help me?

There was silence on her end of the line, and for a moment I feared I had overstepped with my request. When she finally spoke, I almost broke down at her words.

"There is nothing I would like more. I can't promise you anything, though. You've got a hard road ahead of you with Bella, and I don't think there's anything I can say or do to make things easier for you. But you have a right to see Grace, and you need to exercise that right. You don't want to miss any more than you already have. Let me give you Bella's number."

I jotted it down, then said my good-byes. I would call that number. I would.

Just not tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own _Twilight_.**

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_Present day_

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"I think I'm gonna throw up again."

I held her hair back as she emptied the remaining contents of her stomach. Her forehead was curiously cool to the touch, and I wondered how she could be so sick without any obvious signs of fever. When she was done, she lay on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, wrapping her arms protectively around her small body.

"Wouldn't you rather go sleep in your own bed?"

"No."

"But Gracie..."

"No, mommy. I'm might get sick again. I want to stay here."

Sighing in resignation, I stood up. "I'm going to grab a couple of pillows and some blankets. Be right back."

I collected the bedding, along with a glass of water and her favorite stuffed animal. If we were going to spend the night in the bathroom, we might as well try to be comfortable.

Sliding the pillow under her head, I took care as I tucked the blanket around her narrow shoulders.

"Sit up for a second and drink a little water." She complied, taking a few sips before lying back down.

"How's your head?"

"It hurts."

I rubbed her temples and wondered if it was too soon to give her another dose of Children's Tylenol. She whimpered a little and clutched the stuffed tiger to her chest, before rolling onto her side. Her breathing was harsh in the silence. My concern spiked as a smattering of tears marred her pale skin. She was usually so stoic and my inability to soothe her left me feeling helpless.

Eventually her breathing evened out and her eyes closed, but I continued to gently massage her head in the hope it would provide some relief while she slept. My own eyes became heavy, and I attempted to find as comfortable a position as possible before nodding off.

I awoke ten minutes later to the sound of retching.

**‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›**

The streets of Port Angeles were virtually deserted after 11 pm on a weekday. I drove as fast as I dared while still obeying the traffic laws. Glancing briefly at my daughter in the back seat, I debated calling Renee. It seemed an over-reaction to disturb her for what was most likely a persistent stomach bug. And yet, the closer we got to the hospital, the stronger my sense of unease became.

Feeling slightly guilty, I hit speed dial and waited for someone to pick up.

"Hey Dad. Sorry to call so late, but can you get mom for me?" I could hear him cover the mouthpiece as he yelled. _Renee? For you. It's Bella…no, I don't know what she wants._

A moment later my mother's concerned voice came on the line. "Bella? What's going on?"

"I'm on my way to the emergency room with Grace. It's probably just that flu that's going around…but can you come down and meet us?"

"Of course. Let me tell your dad, and I'll be there as quickly as I can. Oh, and I'll call Edward for you."

"Not sure that's necessary, but ok. Thanks." I disconnected as I pulled in near the ER entrance. As I helped my daughter from the car, it became clear she wouldn't be able to walk in under her own power. Scooping her up, I carried her the short distance to the front desk.

I'd expected to wait once we'd checked in, but the triage nurse looked Grace over with a practiced eye and ushered us immediately into an exam room. Under the florescent lights she looked even more pale, her silence and stillness unnerving me. I stroked her hair and she leaned into my hand, the small action offering us both some measure of comfort.

Almost immediately, the doctor appeared. Dispensing with introductions, he peppered me with questions as he examined her, looking up sharply when I mentioned the nausea and headache she'd had over the last week.

"How long has she been vomiting?"

"She threw up a couple of times maybe a little over a week ago? She seemed fine the next day, so I wasn't too worried. I guess a few days after that she complained of a headache and said she didn't feel well. She didn't have a fever, but I kept her home from school just in case. She felt better the next morning so I let her go back. She didn't start throwing up again until yesterday morning."

"With the stomach flu, we generally expect to see loose stools or diarrhea. Have you noticed that to be the case?"

"No, not that I know of."

"What about problems with walking or losing her balance? Blurred vision?"

The undercurrent of tension in his voice began to worry me. "She did say she was having a problem seeing the blackboard at school. I made an eye appointment for her for next week—I thought she might need glasses."

He frowned and picked up a small, lighted device, shining it briskly across one eye then the other.

"So, the headaches…"

"Seemed to come and go. She'd complain more first thing in the morning, but was able to shake it off during the day. Except for the last couple of days. It's been pretty constant."

"Has she taken any falls recently? Maybe hit her head on something?"

"No…"

He then addressed Grace. "I'm going to ask you to hold my hands and squeeze them as hard as you can. Can you do that?"

"Ok." Her little hands reached up and tentatively grasped his.

"Good. Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?" He held up his right hand, displaying three fingers.

She squinted up at him before venturing "Three?"

"That's great, thank you. Now I'm going to ask you a few questions. Can you tell me your name?"

"…Grace..."

"That's a pretty name. How old are you, Grace?"

She was quiet for a moment, before answering "I'm seven."

"Ah, so you must be in second grade. Who's your teacher?"

Confusion played across her face as she struggled to come up with the answer. After a long moment, the doctor spoke gently. "It's ok. I'm going to ask you one more question. Do you know where we are?"

She looked at me in distress and said nothing. I moved closer, threading my fingers through her hair, and she blinked rapidly as her eyes filled with tears.

The doctor jotted something in her chart before looking up at me. "We'll run some blood work to make sure we're not missing anything obvious, but she needs to have a CAT scan immediately. One of the nurses will call down to radiology to set it up. She's a little dehydrated, so in the mean time we'll start an IV and give her fluids."

Willing myself calm, I asked for clarification. "I don't understand…what do you think is wrong with her?"

"It's very likely Grace's symptoms are not being caused by a virus. The quick neuro assessment showed that she has blurred vision, her pupils are reacting sluggishly to light and she has unequal grip strength. When combined with the headaches and vomiting, this could indicate increasing intracranial pressure. A CT scan will help confirm if that's what's going on."

I tried to wrap my mind around his words. Wracking my brain for what I knew of the nervous system, I realized anything that caused an increase in intracranial pressure was serious.

Looking down at my daughter, I suddenly felt cold all over.

**‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›**

Renee arrived with my father in tow as I waited for Grace to finish her scan. I couldn't even pretend to be calm, practically throwing myself into my mother's surprised arms. Now that they were here, the tears I'd managed to hold back released, and it was a moment before I was able to pull myself together enough to bring them up-to-date.

My mother shook her head with disbelief when I finished. "I'm sure it can't be that serious. She's always been so healthy." The look of uncertainty on her face belied her words.

My dad cleared his throat before offering, "She's a tough girl. Whatever it is, she'll get through this. It's probably not as bad as you're thinking."

"I don't know _what_ to think."

We settled in and continued to wait, the minutes crawling so slowly it felt like time was moving backwards. I couldn't stop my eyes from continually drifting to the clock above the nurse's station. In an effort to keep calm, I bargained with myself…_Five more minutes and I'll ask the nurse if there's any word. She's already been in there longer than they said she'd be…_

My patience had reached its breaking point when the doctor appeared and motioned us to follow him into a small room. I tried to read something into his demeanor that would provide reassurance, but he appeared disturbingly neutral.

He cut right to the chase. "Grace has a decent sized mass at the 4th ventricle, with what looks like brain stem involvement. We're not set up to handle that here, so she'll need to be transported by ambulance to Children's Hospital in Seattle. The last ferry has already left for the night, so we'll keep her in the ER until it's time to go. You'll need to follow behind in your car."

I felt both light headed and sick to my stomach. "When you say mass, that means tumor, right? What else could it be?"

His tone softened. "Yes. I'm sorry. Given the location, you're probably looking at an anaplastic ependymoma, although until Pathology has a chance to look at it, we won't know for sure."

"Oh my God."

I knew there were questions I should be asking, but all I could focus on was the word _tumor_. It ricocheted wildly around my head, conjuring images of illness and death. "Not all tumors are cancerous though. Could it be benign?"

"Hypothetically, yes. But at this point you need to prepare yourself for the possibility that it might be malignant. They'll do an MRI when she gets to Children's to gather more detailed information. A team of specialists will sit down with you and go over treatment options."

My parents had been silently watching our exchange before Renee broke in. "So they _can_ do something. She'll get chemo or radiation, be sick for a few months…but then she'll be ok. There's no reason to think she won't be, is there?"

"Children's is an excellent hospital. She'll be in very good hands."

It wasn't lost on me that he'd avoided answering the question.

**‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›**

I had excused myself to the restroom, leaving my parents to sit with Grace while I attempted to clean up. Splashing cold water on my face, I tried to organize my thoughts. Obviously I would need to notify the school district that I wouldn't be at work for at least a few days, maybe longer. Would I need to take a leave of absence? Were we looking at weeks or months? I had no idea.

Pulling my cell out, I turned it on and saw that I'd missed several calls from a familiar Seattle number and one text message from Jake. I checked the text first.

_Your mom called—how is Grace?_

I debated how much to tell him, settling on less rather than more. No point causing unnecessary worry until we knew something for sure.

_Being sent to hospital in Sea—know more in the AM. Will call later._

Mentally girding myself, I listened to a series of progressively more frantic voice mails from Edward.

"_Your mom called. Call me when you know what's going on with Grace." _Click.

"_Bella, call me when you get this message. I need to know how Grace is._" Click.

"_You have your phone off which I guess means you're still at the hospital. Please call me as soon as you can."_ Click.

"_Bella, since I haven't heard from you and your phone keeps going to voice mail, I'm not sure what to think. I caught the last ferry over and will be there as soon as possible_."

As stressful as the night had been, it was about to get worse.

* * *

**A/N**

Heaps of gratitude, as always, to Immortal. I'm so grateful we share a brain.

This chapter would have been impossible to write accurately without the guidance of chris_erlyn. Thank you for your invaluable input and patience with my unending questions.

And last but not least, thank you Melee003, for caring enough to design the beautiful banner.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own _**Twilight**_**.**

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_The misting rain filters the autumn light, causing uneven shadows on the ground. My friends and I run through the piles of leaves in Mrs. Gallagher's yard, scattering them as we laugh, only a little afraid of getting caught. In the distance I can hear my mother calling me, but I ignore her__ and keep running. I'm not ready to go home yet…_

_When we reach the park, we argue over who gets to use the swing set first. I win, and Jacob and Embry take turns pushing me higher, higher, I can almost see…hey, come back, you can't go where I can't see you. Here, get on the merry-go-round. Hang on tight, honey. Let me know if you get dizzy and we'll stop, ok? …Gracie…? …Don't fall!_

_I throw myself into the murky water, frantically looking for any sign of her along the bottom. I __know __she's down here, somewhere, among the seaweed and muck…_

_Where is she? _

_I'm trying to stay calm but the force of the current is pulling me away. I fight against the crush of the water, the weight of my fear…_

_I'm surrounded by black._

_Suddenly I feel her, tethered to the ocean floor, and I pull with everything I have, over and over, until abruptly she breaks free. She is so heavy, just dead weight; I'm not sure I can do this…_

_I struggle to force us to the surface, finally breaking through to see Edward silhouetted on the deck of a boat. Overwhelmed with relief, I lift her over my head with the last of my strength and into her father's waiting arms. _

_As I'm slowly swallowed by the water, I glimpse him briefly cradle her, before he looks down __at me—then with a tender smile he hurls her small body back into the depths._

_I scream but nothing comes out—instead my mouth fills with salt water and I gag. Invisible hands reach out and grab me, tightening their hold as they chant my name._

_Bella, Bella, Bella, Bella…_

"Bella…Bella, wake up. Honey, wake up."

My eyes felt heavy, but I forced them open, realizing as I did that I was in the passenger seat of my own car. One of my mother's hands gripped my arm while the other rested on the steering wheel. It took a long moment to orient myself and remember why Renee was driving. When it all came back, I desperately wished I were still asleep.

It was still dark as we neared Bainbridge. In front of us, the tail lights of the ambulance were faint in the distance. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a pair of headlights following closely behind.

Edward.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

After returning from the restroom, I'd rejoined my parents by Grace's bedside. The nurse had tried to insist that only two of us at a time could stay, but relented after a whispered conversation with my mother. Before dimming the lights, she looked Grace over and admonished us to keep the conversation to a minimum.

As I held Grace's hand, her eyes would periodically flutter open before slowly closing again. A series of random memories spun through my mind as I watched her. With utter clarity I could remember the first time they'd placed her in my arms, red faced and crying, yet somehow beautiful even in her distress. I remembered the first time she rolled over onto her stomach; the look on her face when confronted with pureed peas instead of her beloved bottle. And my anxiety, when it came time to trim her baby soft curls...

I felt my mother's hand on my shoulder as she whispered that she was leaving to find coffee.

As the minutes ticked on, I alternated between worrying about Grace and wondering when Edward would make his appearance. I tried to calculate how long it would take him to reach Port Angeles once the ferry docked. There was no one I wanted to see less at this time, but I couldn't deny he had a right to be here. Of course, he'd had an _obligation_ to be there all along…

My father cleared his throat, interrupting my thoughts before they could veer down roads better left untraveled. I looked at him questioningly.

"Your mom and I will help you any way we can. I realize we haven't always been able to, but I don't want you to feel like you can't ask us if you need something."

"I know. Thank you. I don't know what I would have done all these years…you've helped so much already." We left unspoken what we were both thinking. My parents taking me in would have been unnecessary if my marriage hadn't failed—if my husband hadn't left.

When my mother returned, it was with Edward in tow. His normally broad shoulders were hunched, and his rust colored hair was in disarray. Immediately his eyes sought Grace, taking in her IV and cardiac monitor, before warily shifting to me.

With a strained voice he asked, "What's going on?"

Renee handed each of us a cup of coffee before putting a steadying arm around his shoulders and steering him to the nearest chair.

"Bella, I'll let you fill Edward in while I walk your father out to the car."

My father squeezed my shoulder affectionately, then nodded stiffly to Edward as he stood to leave. I took a few sips of my drink, using the time to compose myself. Making a concerted effort to hide my discomfort, I attempted to summarize everything I had learned.

"The doctor did a neuro assessment as part of her exam. Some things were...off, so they did a CT scan and found a mass…a tumor." I watched as the color drained from his face. "They don't know for _sure_ what type it is. I mean, they have a suspicion, but until they actually biopsy it, they won't _know_. It could be benign."

"But they think it's cancer."

"He said it was a possibility…but yeah. Because of where it's located, I guess that makes it the most likely scenario."

"I can't...this doesn't even make sense." He reached out to tentatively stroke her arm, then let his hand fall back to his lap as he looked away.

"Why is she still here in the emergency room?"

"She's being transferred to Children's Hospital in Seattle. They're just better set up to handle everything and she'll have access to whatever she needs. We'll leave in time to catch the first ferry over."

Edward nodded in understanding and his eyes slid back to focus on Grace. We waited in charged silence as the hustle of the ER pulsed around us. The hiss of the automatic doors coupled with the beeping equipment created an irregular yet oddly hypnotic rhythm. He sat utterly motionless—if it had been anyone else, I almost could have forgotten he was there. But for all his stillness, the tension between us made that impossible.

He had just started to ask something when a harried-looking nurse strode in followed by a pair of paramedics rolling a gurney. She addressed us as she quickly began unhooking the monitoring equipment.

"It's time. You'll want to go get your car now so you'll be prepared to follow."

We both stood up and moved to the side, allowing room for the paramedics to transfer Grace onto the gurney. The nurse tucked a sheet around her shoulders, outlining her tiny frame. We trailed anxiously behind as she was rolled out to the ambulance. They were closing the rear doors when my mother materialized, placing a comforting arm around each of us as the transport departed.

Renee held us for a minute, before I pulled away. Being in such close proximity to Edward was acutely uncomfortable under the best of circumstances. Tonight, it was almost more than I could bear.

There was an awkward moment, before he looked directly at me and asked, "Do you want to ride together?"

"My mom is driving with me."

"Oh." He seemed like he wanted to say more, then apparently thought better of it. "I guess I'll see you there."

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

Renee continued to grasp my hand as I tried to shake off the anxiety left by the nightmare. The dream had been commonplace when Edward and I first separated, but only resurfaced now when I was under extreme stress. Tonight qualified by every criteria imaginable.

At the ferry terminal, we were allowed to load first, parking directly behind the ambulance. The paramedics let us trade-off sitting with her during the hour-long trip to the mainland. After docking, it took another 30 minutes of crawling through rush hour traffic to reach the hospital.

The ambulance pulled into a side entrance, completely bypassing the emergency room. As they began to unload Grace, my mother stopped the car and motioned for me to get out, saying she would track us down once she'd found parking.

I followed as Grace was whisked inside and instantly taken to a room. She was transferred to the bed, and a nurse checked her vitals, heart and lungs, before asking a series of questions.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"…my head hurts..." She spoke softly, the words slurring together.

"I'm sorry your head hurts, sweetie, but can you tell me your name?"

"…Grace."

"Ok, Grace. Can you tell what else you're feeling?"

"…the light hurts my eyes."

"The light?" When Grace didn't respond, the nurse tried again. "What about the light is bothering you?"

" Grace?"

" Grace?"

Her body suddenly stiffened and she began to thrash, almost jerking off the bed. I stared in horror as the nurse tried to hold her down with one hand while frantically paging for help with the other. Instinctively, I leapt forward, before a trio of people converged on the room, shoving me out of the way, and I was forced back into the doorway. They surrounded her as a second page went out for the doctor, and almost instantly a man came barreling down the hall. From where I stood, I strained to see what was going on. I could hear the doctor barking orders, as someone slipped an oxygen mask over her face. A syringe was inserted into the IV line as she continued to convulse. My blood turned to ice.

After what felt like an eternity, her body went limp. The doctor took a deep breath and picked up the phone, ordering a room to be prepped in ICU. He scrawled something in her chart, then spoke quietly to one of the nurses. The adrenaline of the moment began to fade, and I trembled while trying to catch my breath. Nothing in my life had ever terrified me more.

As she was being wheeled out of the room, a nurse pulled me aside. "She's being moved to ICU for closer monitoring. You'll need to walk down with us."

I nodded wordlessly. Turning to follow, I heard the ping of the elevator, then the hushed voices of my mother and Edward as they hurried towards us down the hall.

* * *

**A/N**

Thanks as always to immortal. I now know that a seizure is what happens to me when you pick up your red pen. Where's my Ativan…

Thanks to chris_erlyn, without whom the medical details would read like a bad episode of House…

Thanks to Violet, for cyber-holding my hand when I think I can't possibly do another re-write.


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own _Twilight_.**

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_It's said denial is the mind's defense against having to acknowledge something too painful to bear. A person believes, despite all evidence to the contrary, that their preferred version of the truth will prevail. Sometimes it's possible to exist in this state indefinitely. At other times, all it takes to break through and forever shatter the illusion is a handful of quiet words._

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We kept vigil in the ICU, counting each uneventful hour as a small victory. Grace had been given a cocktail of drugs, which left her both drowsy and somewhat disoriented. Despite her relatively stable state, I found myself unable to relax. The past ten hours felt surreal—how did I not realize there was something seriously wrong before last night? As I watched her sleep, pallid against the white of the hospital sheets, I struggled to make sense of it.

I thought back through the previous weeks, trying to pinpoint any signs I may have missed, but came up empty. Still, it was impossible not to feel guilty. As her mother, shouldn't I have instinctively known there was a problem? Had I been too distracted by work or…

"Don't." My mother's stern voice cut through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present. "I see what you're doing, and you need to stop. It's not your fault. I spent a lot of time with her too, and didn't notice anything either."

"But…"

"Bella, stop it. You're not a doctor—nothing you described sounded out of the ordinary. Kids get sick with stuff all the time. There's no way you could be expected to make the leap from the flu to a brain tumor. No one would."

"I didn't see it either. She seemed pretty normal when I had her last weekend."

Edward's words were probably meant to be reassuring, but instead they made me angry, and I rounded on him.

"And you would know how? You see Grace twice a month. That hardly makes you an expert on what's _normal_ for her."

"_Bella_!" My mother looked appalled.

"Renee, it's okay—I get it." His voice sounded tired but had an edge. "But Bella? You're not the only one who's upset and feels guilty here. You don't think I'm asking myself the same questions you are?"

"Nice that you feel guilty _now_." My words were acid, and I watched the color drain from his face.

When he finally spoke, it was so softly I could barely hear him. "No…not just now."

I was about to respond when Grace stirred, and slowly opened her eyes.

"Mommy?"

"Hey, sweetie. How're you doing?"

Her eyes drifted to my mother, then to Edward, a look of confusion on her face.

"Why's daddy here?"

"He helped keep you company on the ferry, remember?"

"Oh." Her eyes began to close again, before she forced them open. "Can we go home?"

Edward reached out to stroke her hair. "You'll need to stay here for a while, but we'll all be with you, okay?"

"You _and_ mommy?"

"Both of us."

"And Nana?"

"Grandma, too, yes."

"Oh, okay…" Her words slurred together as she closed her eyes.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

At noon, a pair of nurses appeared to take her for the MRI, and we followed behind, anxiously camping out in the radiology lounge. As we waited for her to finish, I filled the time by calling the Port Angeles school district to arrange for an indefinite leave of absence. Next I tried Jake, but got only his voicemail. I left a brief message, updating him on her condition, and letting him know I'd call again once I had more definitive information.

Edward made only one call, and from his end of things I deduced it was to his mother. It hadn't occurred to me until then to wonder at her absence, but I lacked the mental energy to ponder it further.

Once the results of the scan were available, we met with the oncologist while my mother stayed behind in ICU with Grace. The options presented to us were limited; at this point, surgery was a given—further treatment with radiation or chemo or both would hinge on the outcome of the biopsy. Yet despite the odds, a part of me still clung to the belief that she would somehow avoid a cancer diagnosis.

Surgery was scheduled for 8 o'clock the following morning. In preparation, Grace was sent for more tests; chest x-rays, an ECG, and another round of blood work.

During this time, Edward and I were required to fill out a mountain of paperwork. My hands shook as I signed the consent form_, _the doctor's words of caution ringing in my ears. _No matter how skilled the surgeon, there's always a degree of risk…_

Because Grace's tests were expected to take another hour, Renee suggested we head down to the cafeteria. My nerves would not allow me to eat, but I gratefully fell into the largest cup of coffee available. Edward seemed equally stressed, but still managed to look askance at the number of sugar packets I dumped into my drink. His quiet disapproval grated on me, and I barely suppressed the urge to snap at him.

Renee had taken it upon herself to handle the lodging arrangements once it became clear Grace would be unable to leave the hospital anytime soon. She'd managed to book a room for the two of us at a mid-sized hotel nearby, and I was grateful she'd had the presence of mind to think of it. In spite of having been up for over thirty-six hours, it hadn't occurred to me to even wonder where we would sleep.

As she filled us in, Edward tentatively offered, "You're both welcome to stay with me if you want. You don't have to stay at a hotel."

"No! Absolutely not." Exhaustion left me unwilling to feign politeness.

My mother shot me a reapproving look, then gently patted him on the arm. "That's sweet of you, but I've already paid for the room. Thank you, though."

"If you change your mind..."

I cut in. "_We won't_."

He nodded once before looking down embarrassed, and for a split second I almost felt badly. I knew I was being rude but just couldn't find it in me to care.

Our exchange only added to the growing strain, and five minutes later Edward excused himself, mumbling something about _phone calls to make,_ before disappearing. He met up with us again in ICU just as Grace was being returned to her room. Shortly thereafter a new nurse came by, bringing with her an illustrated book and doll. She explained to Grace in simple terms what the surgeon was planning to do, using the doll to demonstrate the procedure. Grace was encouraged to ask as many questions as she wanted, but surprisingly she only had two: _Will it hurt?_ And, _are you sure I'll wake up?_

At the second question, my stomach twisted. In her innocence, she'd cut to the heart of my unspoken fear.

We spent the remainder of the evening trying to keep Grace entertained and her mind off the coming surgery. I found it difficult to sustain light conversation, but Edward picked up the slack every time I faltered. He regaled her with amusing stories about his job at the aquarium, using silly voices to represent the various animals living there. It was clear this wasn't new territory for them, and I was a little taken aback seeing him in this role. Halfway through a particularly funny anecdote about the sea otters, her eyes began to flutter shut.

My mothered motioned for Edward to step back, and they conferred in hushed tones. When I caught her eye, she indicated that I should join them.

"He's going to drop me at the hotel on his way home. Why don't you stay with Grace a little longer, make sure she's settled for the night, and I'll see you when you get there?"

I agreed, and she handed over the car keys and explained where the car was parked. I hung back as she approached Grace again, grasping my daughter's tiny hand in her own and bowing her head.

_Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep… _

I'd never really given much thought to the meaning behind the prayer. My mother's faith had been a constant in her life almost as long as I could remember. I'd been made to attend church on Sundays and even sang in the choir, but the conviction of belief had eluded me.

Following Renee's departure, I found myself contemplating the remaining words as I, too, held my daughter's hand while she drifted off to sleep.

_If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take._

I closed my eyes just for a moment…

"Ms. Swan?"

I was startled awake by the soft voice of the ICU nurse as she placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"She's probably out for the night. Why don't you go and get some rest?"

I kissed Grace's check as I wearily agreed.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

I was barely able to stay awake during the short drive to the hotel. Too many hours without sleep left me disoriented, making it difficult for me to find the room. Once inside, I took a much needed shower, then called the front desk and arranged for an early wake-up call. Renee had been asleep on the queen-sized bed when I arrived, but sat up groggily when I crawled beneath the covers. Fatigue wrapped around me, as I sunk into the pillow and closed my eyes…

"Bella?"

As I struggled back to consciousness, I realized she'd turned to face me and was sitting cross-legged on the bed. She reached out, placing a hand on my arm.

"…hmm?"

My mother took a deep breath before quietly asking, "Do you think maybe it's time you and Edward talked?"

"…_what_?"

"I know we've discussed it before, but you need to find a way to forgive him and get past this. You can't afford to be at loggerheads with each other with what's going on."

Suddenly I was wide awake. "God, Mom, really? You want to talk about this now? You don't think I already have enough to worry about?" I felt my bitterness rise, years of resentment and animosity twisting my insides, and made a concerted effort to tamp it down. "I have nothing to say to him. He made his choice, and he can live with it."

"At least hear him out…"

I jerked my hand away from hers and sat up. "Why are you always defending him? Seriously, why? I don't understand it—I have never understood it. He promised to be there, for me, for Grace…that lasted all of five months. Did I deserve to be a single mother at 19? Did Grace deserve to not have a father around for years?" I started to shake with the force of my frustration. It always came back to this with Renee—in her world, everyone was worthy of forgiveness if they appeared genuinely contrite. That was all fine and good for her, but I failed to see how I owed Edward any understanding. Yes, he'd been young, but I'd been equally young and hadn't abandoned my child.

"Bella…"

"No. He doesn't deserve it. Just because he's playing dad now doesn't mean that what he did was forgivable. I'm tired of discussing this."

"Was I forgivable?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Was I forgivable? You know I left you and your father for a while. Your dad had to raise you on his own, only he didn't have his parents there to help him. Yet, when I had straightened myself out and was truly ready to be a parent…be a wife…he forgave me and we worked through our issues. He let go of his anger, and welcomed me back into your lives and we made it work. Was he wrong to do that?"

I stared at my mother, nonplussed. Of course I remembered that she'd been absent for a time when I was really little, but I was young enough when she returned that my memory of it was hazy. It was something I hadn't thought about in years, but suddenly her attitude towards Edward made sense.

It still infuriated me.

I could formulate no response to her question, and was too tired to even begin to try and sort it out now. Rolling onto my side, I faced away from her, and closed my eyes.

"I'm done talking about this."

My mother sighed, and I felt the bed shift as she settled back under the covers. The sound of her even breathing minutes later told me she was already asleep.

I was not so lucky.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

The 6 AM wake-up call seemed to come only moments after I'd managed to find sleep. My mother and I got ready in silence, the conversation from the night before still heavy between us. I remembered to check my phone, and saw my dad had left an encouraging message with apologies that he'd been unable to arrange time off to be with us.

We skipped our usual morning coffee, but Renee insisted we stop on the way to pick up pastries. It did not go unnoticed by me that she took special care to include several of Edward's favorites. His particular preference had come to light one weekend when we'd visited my parents and he'd made the mistake of eating all of my father's sprinkled donuts. I was irritated but not surprised my mother would remember a detail like that, and angry at myself for caring.

When we entered Grace's room, Edward was already there. Clutched in her arms was an obviously well loved stuffed animal, and she was smiling weakly as he spoke to her. The realization that I had not thought to bring her anything felt like yet another failing on my part.

I leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Hey, Sweetie. Did you sleep okay?"

"I got my kangaroo…"

"I can see that. She's very pretty. Did daddy get that for you?"

'Yeah. I have lots of animals at daddy's house."

"…that's nice." It struck me fully then how little I knew about her life with her father.

Before anything more could be said, a nurse alerted us that it was time for Grace to be transferred to pre-op. Only Edward and I were allowed to accompany her there, so my mom gave us each a quick hug before promising she'd meet us in the waiting room.

Once in the holding area, she became distressed, gripping my hand tightly as she began to quietly cry. Her fear compounded my own, and I fought to hide my worry as I caressed her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

"Shh, shh…honey, it's going to be okay. I promise."

Edward regarded Grace with mounting concern as it became clear I could not calm her. He caught the attention of a nurse, who quickly came over and injected an anti-anxiety medication into the IV line. Soon, I could feel her hand relax in my own as the drug took effect.

We held her hands until it was time for the nurses to shave the back of her head. Stepping away, I had to quickly close my eyes. There was something so concrete about watching the red curls fall—I could no longer deny this was really going to happen. I'd been afraid every moment since our run to the Port Angeles emergency room, but it was nothing like the near panic I felt now.

Ten minutes later, she was wheeled into the operating room. As we lost sight of her, the tears I'd been holding back finally slipped out. I felt a light hand on my back with a whispered _she'll be ok_, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to be comforted. When I pulled away, he let his hand fall, before following me wordlessly to find Renee.

There was very little conversation as we waited. Minutes passed like hours, the tension making it difficult to maintain a veneer of calm. Edward fidgeted nervously, running his hands through his hair until I wanted to forcibly make him stop. Even my mother was unable to sit still, crossing and re-crossing her legs as she flipped through the pages of a magazine.

I tried to block everything out, but every time I closed my eyes, a random memory would force its way to the surface.

…_my unwillingness in those first weeks to let anyone hold her—he'd had to practically pry Grace from my arms even as I was falling asleep..._

_Renee showing him how to properly prepare a bottle…_

_Waking up with his arms wrapped around me, our daughter safely cocooned between us… _

_Packing up the last of my belongings as my father loaded the boxes into the back of my truck for the trip back to Forks…_

I knew the direction of my thoughts was influenced by Edward's continual presence. He was entirely too _here_—at a time I needed to focus exclusively on Grace, he was an unwelcome distraction. Eventually, I sought refuge in the restroom. Splashing cold water on my face, I tried to think about what needed to be done in the coming days.

When I returned, it was to see my mother with an arm around Edward, his head resting on her shoulder. The casual intimacy of the image stopped me in my tracks. Renee chose that instant to look up, offering me an encouraging smile. I stared for a moment, unable to respond. The little tendrils of betrayal and bitterness that had wrapped around me since Edward's appearance tightened their hold. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to wrench my mother's arms from him, denying him the comfort he found there.

But, on some fundamental level I recognized that he needed reassurance too, and I didn't have the right to begrudge him that.

My thoughts were interrupted by the staccato of rapid footsteps on linoleum. I turned to look, hoping it might be one of the doctors or perhaps a nurse with an update on Grace's status. Instead I found myself face to face with Edward's mother. She was immaculately dressed, as she'd been all the other times we'd met. An air of confidence surrounded her, and I briefly wondered whether anything ever disrupted her quiet self-assurance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my own mother stiffen as she registered Esme's presence. There was a short pause, before Renee offered an uncharacteristically lukewarm greeting.

A quick look at Edward's exhausted face confused me further. Instead of the relief I would have expected, he glanced at me hesitantly before rising to welcome her. She leaned in to hug him, then extended her hand to me.

"Bella. Lovely to see you again."

"You too, Mrs. Cullen. Thanks for coming down."

Esme dropped gracefully into the chair next to where Edward had been sitting, and he followed suit. She reached a tentative arm around him, but he remained rigid, not relaxing into her as he had my mother.

I hadn't thought it possible for things to be any more uncomfortable than they'd been moments earlier. But with Esme's arrival seem to come a new layer of tension, and I wondered if there was something I was missing. We sat together in taut silence until the quiet was again broken by footsteps.

"Miss Swan? Mr. Cullen?"

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

…_and my world shifted._

_With a few simple words, everything changed._

_

* * *

_

**A/N**

I have only 6 words for Immortal…"Yes, Beta. May I have another?"

As always, thanks to chris_erlyn for all the technical help, and for not running and screaming from the Amy and Immortal show.

And someday, you'll both get Chex Mix...and not the exploding kind, I promise.


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own _Twilight_.**

_

* * *

_

_In_

_Out _

_In_

_Out _

_In _

_Out_

_It felt like my lungs would never get enough oxygen. The pain in my chest was dizzying, and my throat burned as I coughed up dirty seawater. When I finally forced my eyes open, I found myself lying on the rocky shore next to a boy I'd never seen before. I stared at him as he stared at me, until fatigue blurred my vision and I began to shake. As I closed my eyes, I felt his arms slip around me, and I huddled closer, never questioning the safety I felt there. _

_In the distance, I could hear the frantic shouts of my friends, their words becoming more distinct as they approached. As I recognized Jake's voice, I struggled to sit up. The arms that held me did not loosen their grip._

"_Bella!"_

_Behind him stood the rest of our group, breathing heavily from their sprint down the cliff. My best friend knelt down, his warm hands grasping mine as he tried to pull me to him. _

_The nameless boy looked steadily at Jake, but made no move to relinquish me._

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

"_Mr. Cullen, Ms. Swan? I just finished reading the pathology report, and I'm sorry but…"_

It felt like the air had been forced from my lungs.

"…_Anaplastic Ependymoma with brain stem involvement..."_

…I heard Edward breathe_ "…oh God…"_

"…_could not achieve total resection…"_

…and I was free falling…

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

We'd had to wait two agonizing hours before being allowed to see Grace after surgery. I was afraid I'd be unable to look at her without breaking down, the doctor's sympathetic words lodged like shrapnel in my chest.

When the time came, we trailed closely after the ICU nurse, leaving our respective mothers to wait on opposite sides of the lounge. The unit coordinator assured us that she would be permitted additional visitors later in the afternoon. For now, visitation would be restricted to parents only.

Although they'd done their best to prepare us for what to expect, I was still caught off guard. Grace lay motionless in a medically induced coma, her small form practically obscured by a staggering array of monitoring equipment. Edward drew a sharp breath at the sight of her, and I felt my courage momentarily falter. She looked so fragile among the mountain of machinery, tubes, and wires. I was irrationally afraid to touch her, as if the slightest amount of contact might be enough to disrupt the delicate balance tying her here.

I took a hesitant step forward.

Sensing my reluctance, the nurse standing behind me whispered, "Go ahead. It's okay_." _

I slowly placed a hand over Grace's, and Edward mirrored my action from the other side of the bed. _Was_ _she aware at all? Should I talk to her?_

"Gracie? I'm right here. So is your father."

"Hey, sweetheart." He leaned over, brushing her cheek with a trembling hand.

I watched for any sign she'd heard us, but her face remained impassive.

"We're only going to be allowed to stay with you for a few minutes before they make us leave, but we're not going far. We'll be back in to see you as soon as they let us. Nana Renee and Grandma Esme are anxious to see you too."

As we lingered by her bedside, my anxiety was almost overwhelming.

_I don't know how to make this better for you. I'll do whatever it takes. Gracie, I'm so sorry… _

I was still grappling with my feeling of helplessness when the nurse approached indicating our time was up. As we turned to leave, Edward grabbed my wrist tightly, sliding his hand into mine. The intensity of his distress reflected my own, and I did not have it in me to refuse.

When we reached the ICU lounge, I was surprised to see a familiar figure huddled with my mother.

"Jake!" I pulled free from Edward's grasp and practically launched myself into his arms. "I didn't know you were coming!"

"Hey..." He hugged me fiercely for a moment, before stepping back. "Your mom was filling me in. How is she?"

"Oh, Jake…I don't know. She didn't seem to know we were there. They warned us, but…"

"I'm really sorry, B. I'd have been here sooner, but had to swing over to the Rez to check on my dad before leaving. Mike was cool and agreed to cover things at work as long as I came in for the first part of the morning. So, I'm all yours. No way I'm gonna sit in Port Angeles when my girls are here in Seattle."

"I'm so glad you came. It's been…" Words failed me, and I could feel my eyes start to sting. "I'm just really glad you're here."

"Like I would let you do this alone. Not that you're actually alone…" He shot my mom a sideways look. "You know what I mean."

Renee patted Jake's arm fondly. "Nice recovery, kiddo."

"Hey, Jacob." Edward's voice came from behind me, and I jumped. In my excitement, I had momentarily forgotten he was there.

"Umm, Jake…I'm sure you remember Edward."

"Of course." They shook hands, Jake offering a polite smile to Edward's strained one. There was a momentary lull as we searched for something to say.

"So…" Edward finally ventured, "You'll be here all weekend?"

"Yeah. I'll have to head home Sunday night, but I'll be here for the next couple of days so…"

My mother cut in. "Have you already made plans for where you're going to stay?"

"Not yet, but I was hoping I could crash with you guys."

"Of course!" The prospect of having Jake around for the weekend had me almost giddy with relief.

"Your mom was saying Gracie should be awake tomorrow." He looked at me hopefully. "Will I be able to see her?"

"I think so. If she's stable enough, they're going to bring her out of it sometime in the afternoon."

"I brought her a couple of things." He motioned to a small gift bag on the chair next to Renee." Nothing fancy—I wasn't sure what was gonna be allowed."

Edward had followed our exchange with ill-disguised interest. He glanced across the room at his mother and frowned before bringing his attention back to us. "I should probably go talk to my mom…"

It sounded more like a question than a statement, and I wondered at the undercurrent of tension between the two. Had it always been like that? I'd so rarely seen them together that I honestly didn't know.

His hesitation proved pointless as Esme took it upon herself to join us. She placed a possessive arm around her son while simultaneously holding out her hand to Jake.

"Hello. I'm Esme Cullen, Edward's mother. I don't believe we've met. You are…?"

"This is Bella's friend Jacob." Edward broke in, clearly wary of his mother's intensions.

"A pleasure to meet you, Jacob. You came all the way from the Peninsula to see Bella? That's impressive."

"From Port Angeles, yeah. I've known Little G her whole life. There's no way I wouldn't be here."

"That's nice of you. Seems that Grace must know quite a variety of people." Esme's voice was conversational and her smile never wavered, yet her words were loaded.

Edward looked dismayed and my mother's eyes narrowed, but Jake snaked an arm around my shoulder and smiled.

"Well, Bella certainly has a lot of people who love her, which means Grace does too. I think we've done a good job making sure she never felt like anything was missing in her life_._"

I could feel Jake's arm tighten around me, and I knew he was angry, despite his placid tone.

Esme suddenly seemed to realize she'd overstepped, and tried to backtrack. "Well, Bella has certainly been conscientious. Grace is such a smart girl. Very advanced. She reminds me so much of Edward at that age."

"She takes after _both_ of her parents." My mother looked at Esme pointedly. "Not just smart, but tough. That girl can do anything when she sets her mind to it. That's why she'll get through this, whatever _this_ entails. And with both her parents here to help her? She'll be okay. I have no doubt."

There was a pause during which Esme and Renee seemed to size each other up. Physically, they were a study in opposites: my mother, petite and round, with a smattering of freckles, and long hair flecked with grey. By contrast, Esme was tall and slender, her green eyes framed by high cheek bones and precisely cut honey blond hair.

It was difficult to believe they'd grown up in the same small logging town, attending the same schools. I vaguely remembered Edward telling me his mother had left Forks after high school on scholarship to pursue her education in Boston. My mom had spent her whole life in western Washington, but our mothers were separated by more than just geography.

Under Renee's challenging gaze, Esme stood a little straighter, her patrician features taking on an expression just shy of haughty. A well-manicured hand reached up to stroke the string of pearls around her neck, before dropping to her side. She smiled thinly.

"Of course she will. I wasn't implying otherwise."

My mother continued to stare at her. The silence built and lengthened until finally Renee sighed and shook her head.

"Someday Esme, you will realize parenthood is a gift."

She turned to Jake, sliding an arm through his, before doing the same to me. "Since we've got time to kill, we should probably eat. Sound good? Edward?"

"I'm not hungry…" I said at the same time Jake came out with an enthusiastic _hell yeah!_

Edward glanced quickly at his mother's chilly expression then shook his head. "We'll probably go find something close by. Thanks for asking, though."

"Sure, next time then. We'll be back in a bit." Renee deftly steered us out of the lounge, using a little more force than absolutely necessary.

Once we were out of earshot, my curiosity got the better of me. "What's going on with you and Edward's mom?"

"Nothing."

"Obviously it's not nothing."

"It's _nothing_ you need to worry about. I just don't think she's been very supportive of Edward, that's all."

"And that bothers you _why_?" Renee's constant concern for Edward's well-being continued to rankle me.

Jake then decided to add his two cents. "Someone should introduce his mom to Al Gore. Bet she could single-handedly reverse global warming."

I had to laugh.

"Alright, that's enough. Just because Edward's mother and I don't see eye to eye doesn't mean I'm going to stand around speaking ill of her." My mom shot him a stern look. "We need to focus on getting something to eat. Come on."

He grinned at her. "You don't have to twist _my_ arm."

"Only you would be enthusiastic about hospital food."

"I may have wandered by the cafeteria on my way up and noticed they're serving pork chops."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes.

"_And_ garlic mash potatoes."

"That sounds…lovely."

"_And_ some kind of super chocolaty dessert."

"Clearly it doesn't take much to make you happy." It came out a little more sour than I intended.

"You'd feel a lot better if you got something real to eat—something that doesn't come in a disposable cup from Starfu…."

"_Jake_!"

"You two…" My mom sounded exasperated. "It still amazes me...no matter what the situation, you guys will find something to argue about."

Jake reached over and yanked my ponytail. "She started it."

Renee broke out the mom voice, but looked amused. "Don't make me finish it."

"No, ma'am. I just saw you throw down with the Esme-cicle. I _know_ better."

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

After our meal, we headed back to the ICU and found Edward sitting alone in the lounge. He made no mention of his mother, leaving us to conclude Esme had left for the day.

I'd assumed my mom would be the one to accompany us next to see Grace, so was surprised when she hesitated, then suggested Jake go in her place.

He shook his head. "Renee, no…I can wait until tomorrow. You should see her."

"But you're only here for the weekend, and you drove so far…"

I noticed Edward glance back and forth between the two.

Suddenly, he spoke. "Someone can go in my place. I need to run back to the house briefly and grab a couple of things, and by the time I get back, it will almost be time to see her again anyway. You'll probably want to go back to your hotel by then. It's been a long day."

Renee wrapped Edward in a hug, as Jake, looking humbled, said _thanks, man. _It was a gracious offer, and I found myself uncharacteristically grateful to him. He left a few moments later, and the three of us settled in for the hour wait.

I closed my eyes as I listened to them catching up. They'd always had a close relationship. Jake and I had practically been raised together—twin terrors—our birthdays separated by less than a month. Relaxing into the familiar flow of their voices, I'd let my mind wander until I heard him reference the presents he'd brought for Grace.

My curiosity got the better of me, and I surreptitiously fished the items out of the gift bag.

Immediately, I recognized the book as being one of his all-time favorites, but I was also a little puzzled.

"Jake? I'm sure she'll love this when she's older, but don't you think it might be a little above her reading level?"

"Above her reading level maybe, but she's smart enough to understand it if it's read to her. Better than rotting her brain with a bunch of TV."

I turned my attention to the other gift. "Pens?"

He grinned mischievously. "Not just any pens."

"Okay…"

"You'll have to wait and see." At my annoyed huff, he laughed. "Don't worry, she'll love it."

Not long after, the unit coordinator informed us we could now see Grace. I hurried down the hall to her room, my mother close behind. It took a full minute before I realized Jake had not followed, and I looked at my mom questioningly.

She shrugged. "I have no idea. I thought he was right…"

Just then, he bounded in the door. "Sorry, I had to ask the nurse something." He seemed inordinately pleased, but his expression changed as soon as he was close enough to see Grace clearly.

"Oh, G…" Jake froze, gripping the safety rail that ringed the bed, before muttering, "I guess I thought…I don't know what I thought."

"Here…" Renee took charge, sliding the folding chairs in the corner over to us. "You might as well sit down. And you don't have to whisper, but the nurse said it was better to talk quietly."

He nodded in understanding. "Okay…Do you think she can hear us?"

"I don't know." None of the staff had been able to answer that one with any amount of certainty.

He scooted his chair closer, reaching out to clasp her hand. "Hey, Gracie. If you're listening, I just want to say you're doing really well. And I brought you a present—two things actually. When you wake up tomorrow you'll get to see them."

He extracted the pens from the bag before addressing me. "Let me show you what I have in mind." He rolled up his sleeve, displaying a stylized tattoo of a raven scattering stars. "You know how she's always been interested in my tattoo…these are body art pens. They're for drawing temporary tats. If it's cool with you, I thought I'd give her one just like mine. Well, smaller obviously…"

"Right now?"

"I promise, it's totally safe. I asked the nurse, and she said its fine as long as it's not near any of the IV lines."

"Huh…" I had to think about it for a moment. The suggestion was certainly unorthodox, and as much as Grace adored Jake, it did seem like something she would like. I glanced at my mom seeking guidance and she smiled at me reassuringly. "I guess so. Sure."

"Cool. Let's take a look and figure out a good place to put it."

I gently peeled back the sheet, exposing her thin arms. There were quite a few bruises, the result of the many IVs she'd had since being admitted to the hospital. We settled on a spot near the wrist, and I stroked her cheek and talked to her while Jake meticulously began to draw.

It took only a few minutes in his skilled hands for a black raven to appear. He switched pens, and soon she had a handful of tiny blue stars decorating her arm. He'd just finished when the nurse arrived letting us know our time was up. I covered Grace before kissing her good-bye, and we made our way back to the lounge.

My mother looked at her watch then stifled a yawn. "Why don't we head out, at least for a bit? I know I need to lay down, and you guys probably do too."

It didn't take long for both Renee and Jake to fall asleep once back at the hotel, but I found myself unable to relax. After a couple of hours, I gave up and took a quick shower. I scribbled a note letting them know I was headed back to the hospital for the night and grabbed the car keys.

I knew Grace's room had a couch that could be folded out into a bed, and figured I had a better chance of sleeping there than I did anywhere else. I checked in at the front desk before heading down the now familiar hallway to her room.

I opened the door.

Apparently, I was going to have company.

* * *

**A/N**

Sincerest apologies on the lengthy wait for the chapter. It was not my intention to leave people hanging.

Thanks, as always, to Immortal—no jokes at your expense this time. I'm the one who should probably invest in remedial grammar lessons (but ricochet is still a verb AND a noun).

Thanks to chris_erlyn—fielding my unending questions must seem a lot like hearing "Are we there yet?" every mile on a cross-country trip. You're a trouper.

And thanks to xtothey for the last minute help!


	6. Chapter 6

I don't own _Twilight_.

**

* * *

**

I halted in the doorway, unprepared for the sight that greeted me.

Edward was slumped in a metal folding chair, his arms and head resting awkwardly on the bed's safety rail. He stirred, then sat up—looking at me with confusion as he struggled awake. Even from a distance, I couldn't help but notice his eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"Bella?" His voice was hoarse, confirming my suspicion.

"Hi…I didn't know you'd be here..." I glanced around the room, my eyes falling on an overnight bag by the couch. "You're staying?"

"I wasn't going to be able to sleep at home…and, you know, I just didn't want her to be alone..."

"Well…I'm here now, so you can leave if you want and not have to worry. I plan on staying the night with her."

"I'd feel better if I was here too, just in case." He stood up and stretched as I approached.

I gazed down at my daughter, watching the rise and fall of her chest in time with the _hiss…whump_ of the ventilator. She looked virtually unchanged from earlier in the day: tiny, pale, unmoving—but still Grace. It was that thought I would hold close to me until she woke up.

He moved to the couch, allowing me unfettered access to her bed. I spoke quietly, touching her cheek as I reassured her that I was staying, before reluctantly turning toward Edward. He jumped up, offering me the couch as he returned to the folding chair.

For several moments we faced each other, unspeaking. When it became obvious I was unwilling to open the conversation, he made the first cautious move.

"So, Grace says you're a teacher?"

"Yes."

"High school? She said you teach the 'really big kids.'"

"Yeah."

"In Port Angeles?"

"Mmhmm."

"Do you like it?

"Does it matter to you if I do or not?"

He flushed. "Look, I'm not trying to offend you. I'm not sure how we do this. Can you help me out? Is there a subject that's safe? 'Cuz I feel like I'm fumbling in the dark here."

I shrugged and looked away.

"Okay…let's try something else. Did Grace tell you I'm teaching her piano?"

"She did." This was territory I was at least more comfortable with. "Said you taught her a song called 'The Little Duckling', or something like that."

"Yeah. It's actually more of a fingering exercise, but it's written in a way that makes it fun."

"Ah."

"I don't want her to get bored while she's still learning the basics. It can be a real drag at first, before you have the technical skill to do the fun stuff. The piano teacher I had growing up was really old school—it wasn't fun at all. I'd have quit if my mother hadn't forced me to stick with it. I don't want it to be like that for Grace."

I couldn't help but smile a little. It wasn't hard to imagine my daughter sitting at the piano, her skinny legs dangling from the bench as she attempted to sit up straight. For a brief moment, the visual shifted—and it was seven year old Edward, looking so much like Grace it was painful.

"…planning to bounce it off you."

"What?" I realized I'd missed whatever it was he'd been saying.

"A piano? I don't know if you have room or not, but an upright wouldn't take up that much space."

"Oh…uh, I don't know..."

"Well, think about it. She'll learn a lot quicker if she has something to practice on during the times she's…when she's in Port Angeles."

"When she's at _home_, yeah. I'll think about it."

We again sat in silence, but it was a slightly more relaxed silence than before. The rhythmic hum of the machinery was surprisingly soothing, and I soon closed my eyes.

At some point during the night, I had the sense I was not alone on the couch, but the intrusion wasn't enough to fully rouse me….

The sound of hushed voices brought me to the surface a second time. I opened one eye, taking in the stealthy movement of the nurses, before closing it again and snuggling closer into the surrounding warmth.

I felt…safe…peaceful…hap…

_Oh crap!_

As I scrambled away, I noticed a damp spot on Edward's shirt next to where I'd apparently laid my head. I looked up to find him regarding me with amusement, a sleepy smile on his face.

I wanted to crawl under the linoleum. Waking up in my ex-husbands arms was bad enough. Waking up to find that I'd drooled on him—there were no words.

Putting as much distance as I could between us, I huddled on my end of the couch and tried to salvage what was left of my dignity. My efforts were derailed, however, by his morning greeting.

"You seem like you slept pretty well."

"…uhh…" I chanced a peek at him, then wished I hadn't.

The corners of his mouth turned up. "It's okay. I didn't mind."

I was saved the humiliation of forming a response when the day-shift nurse came over to introduce herself.

"Hi, I'm Christine. I'll be Grace's nurse this morning, and will be with her until seven this evening."

She continued to talk to us as she walked back over to Grace and began the morning assessment. Edward and I joined her at the bedside, watching as she checked the ventilator settings before listening to her breathing.

"I'm going to do a quick inspection of the surgery site now."

Gently sliding a gloved hand underneath Grace's head, she withdrew it a moment later to check for blood. When she was satisfied, she moved on, scrutinizing the various tubes and IV lines going into and out of our daughter.

She had just folded down the blanket on one side when Edward stiffened.

"What's that on her arm?"

"I'm sorry?"

"That…drawing on her arm…where did that come from?"

Christine looked uncertainly between us. "It's notated in the chart that her family requested permission before..."

"I know _nothing _about it. I _definitely_ didn't tell anyone it was okay to do that. Bella?"

"Jake wanted to surprise her. I told him it was fine. And it _is_ fine. He did a great job. She'll love it."

"You don't think you should have run it past me first?"

"Why?"

"As her father, I have a right to help make those kinds of decisions."

"As her _mother, _and the one who had to make decisions _on my own_ for years, I said it was fine. It's fake, for God's sake. It's not a real tattoo."

"So what I think doesn't matter?"

"If you wanted to _matter_, maybe you should have stuck around instead of disappearing for five years."

We glared at each other, neither of us willing to concede. Even in the heat of the moment, I realized we were arguing over more than just a little ink, but I was too incensed to consider what was really behind his objection.

The nurse stepped between us, effectively putting an end to the conversation.

"I'm sorry, but if you're going to continue this, you can't do it in here."

"We're done." Edward spun on his heel and grabbed his overnight bag, before stalking out the door.

I took several deep, steadying breaths, then slowly dropped down on the couch.

_I watched as he threw random belongings into a black duffel bag, the silence in the room somehow screaming louder than the words we'd hurled at each other not an hour before. Exhaustion and stress had __coalesced__ into verbal combat, a match to the tinder our situation had become. Unlike past skirmishes, there were no soft words of apology, no reassurances that we would find a way to move forward. The months of worry, fear, and uncertainty had finally eroded the bond I once thought unbreakable. _

_I continued to stand there, our daughter in my arms, as he zipped up his bag and walked out the door. _

_He did not look back._

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

I made a point to steer clear of Edward after our confrontation. His anger had truly taken me by surprise. But more than that, I'd found his attitude presumptuous. Grace had survived years in my care without his input. I wasn't about to let him arbitrarily dictate what was and wasn't acceptable now.

At ten o'clock, Jake and my mother met me for breakfast in the cafeteria before heading up to see Grace. I'd decided against sharing my run-in with Edward, figuring it would only bring on another lecture about my need to extend forgiveness, and I was in no mood to hear it. After their departure, I moved to wait for my dad at the hospital's in-house Starbucks, polishing off a triple shot of caffeine comfort almost before I'd had a chance to sit down.

It seemed only moments later that I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and looked up, expecting to see my father. Instead, an older, silver-haired gentleman stared down at me. There was something familiar about him, but once he spoke, I was sure we'd never met.

"Hello Bella, I'm Alec. It's good to finally meet you." His voice was rich, with an accent I couldn't place.

At my blank look, his face softened. "Alec Cullen. Edward's uncle."

"Oh..." That was not what I expected. "Uh…how did you know?"

"You look much like you did as a teenager."

"What?" That did not make things any clearer.

"I've seen your picture. Quite a few pictures actually." He cleared his throat. "Edward had them…around…when he lived with me."

"He lived with you?"

The man I now knew as Alec raised an eyebrow. "While he was in school. Did you not know?"

"No..." I was unsuccessful at keeping the bitterness from my voice. "How would I know that?"

"I apologize. Sincerely. I thought that's something Edward would have shared with you when he came back."

"We don't share much."

"Again, I'm sorry for assuming. Can we start over?"

He sat down in the chair next to me and smiled, offering his hand. "Hello Bella. I'm Edward's uncle Alec. I'm very pleased we've finally met, despite the unfortunate circumstances. I've heard nothing but good things about you."

I was unsure how to respond, but after a moment recovered my manners. "It's nice to meet you too…Alec."

His hand felt calloused in mine, something I'd not expected from his polished appearance. I gazed at him with undisguised curiosity, searching for any familial resemblance.

In truth, I could see little that would tie him to Edward. While their overall builds were not dissimilar, his uncle was shorter, with a somewhat round face and dark brown eyes. It was difficult to tell what his complexion might have been as a younger man—now, he was weathered and tan, as if having lived a lifetime exposed to the elements. Still, he was undeniably handsome, with an air of kindness that drew me in. And that, perhaps, is where the true family resemblance lay.

At the thought, I flinched.

My reaction did not go unnoticed. He smiled again, this time a little sadly.

"I realize nothing about this situation is easy. What you're dealing with is difficult under the best of circumstances, and these are obviously _not _the best of circumstances. "

I knew it was his polite way of referencing my situation with Edward, and all I could do was nod. There was no point in denying the obvious.

"If I may speak openly... You are both quite devoted to your daughter, and in that is tremendous common ground. I hope that you two can find a way to be a support for each other."

I looked away, unable to meet his eyes—my recent encounter with Edward a not so distant reminder of our failure to do exactly that. What Alec had said was in essence no different from what my mother had been advocating. But at this point, I lacked the ability to set aside our history—and I wasn't sure I wanted to. I knew how relying on Edward could end.

I heard his uncle sigh, then stand up. "I should probably go hunt my nephew down."

Once again, his hand was on my shoulder—a gentle squeeze—and then he was gone.

My father found me ten minutes later, unmoved from my position.

He leaned down, giving me a quick hug. "Hey honey. I'm a little late, sorry. Apparently I entered through the giraffe entrance when I was supposed to come in through the whale side…?" Still looking moderately confused, he slipped into the seat recently occupied by Alec. "Is your mother with Grace right now? She called last night and told me what the doctors said. How is she doing?"

"Grace is the same, but I guess that's good. They're still planning on waking her up this afternoon. Mom and Jake are with her right now."

"And how are you holding up?"

"Fine."

My father's mustache twitched. "Edward making things more difficult?"

"_What_? Dad..."

"It's a fair question. You're usually only _fine_ when you're not. You just said Gracie is okay for the moment, so…."

"It's no big deal. We had a few words, nothing earth shattering. I'm not enjoying the fact that he's here, but…."

"You could sic Jake on him." Although he was kidding, I could tell my father found some appeal in the idea.

"I'm not going to _sic_ Jake on Edward. I don't even know why we're talking about this." I stood up, indicating he should do the same. "Let's go see your granddaughter."

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

The remainder of the morning was spent either with Grace, or waiting in the lounge while Edward's family took their turn sitting with her.

At two o'clock, it fell to Christine to explain the process by which Grace would be brought out of her coma.

First, the IV sedative would be discontinued. She would be monitored for any attempt to breathe on her own, and watched for signs of movement such as finger and toe twitching or fluttering of the eyes. When these milestones had been reached, the oxygen she was being given would be decreased, then stopped once she was taking an adequate number of breaths on her own. Lastly, the breathing tube that had been inserted down her throat would be removed and replaced by nasal oxygen tubing.

The process was simple in theory, but could be unpredictable—with progress taking place in fits and starts. While not outright banning us from being with Grace, it was strongly suggested everyone wait in the lounge until summoned. The doctor would be paged as soon as she regained consciousness, and would then conduct a neuromuscular exam to check for any issues unrelated to the surgery.

The four hours it took for Grace to awake felt longer than the previous forty-eight. _Wake up wake up wake up,_ looped over and over in my head as I paced from one side of the room to the other. We'd been given no reason to believe she _wouldn't _wake up—she'd been right on track since coming out of surgery and there'd been nothing to indicate there would be a problem. Still...

My parents and Jake huddled together, speaking in hushed tones, as I wore a path in the grey tile. On the other side of the lounge, Edward sat rigidly, flanked on either side by his mother and uncle. Esme's lips were set in a tight line, and she gave off the distinct impression of being displeased. Alec appeared to be murmuring something to Edward, but gave a small wave when our eyes met.

At six o'clock we were told that Grace was finally conscious, and Edward and I were ushered into the room. Her eyes tracked us as we approached, and she smiled weakly. All the emotion I'd reined in over the previous hours and days suddenly released and I began to cry uncontrollably. I knelt at her bedside, threading my hands through hers, gripping her desperately. I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders, then Edward's hand enveloped mine, joining the three of us together.

Our harsh words from the morning were momentarily pushed aside as we gave thanks for the only thing that truly mattered.

Our daughter was alive.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

It had been almost a week since my father and Jake had left, and four days since I'd dropped my mother at the ferry terminal for her return to Forks. Until then, I hadn't realized how isolated I would feel once they were gone.

Grace continued to improve, transferring out of ICU and into a regular room five days after surgery. While she still slept the majority of the time, she had recovered enough to visit the second floor playroom for short periods.

Edward and I had negotiated a trade-off where we alternated who would spend the night with her. Not wanting to risk another skirmish, we were unfailingly polite when circumstances threw us together. Periodically, I would pass Alec in the hall or leaving Grace's room as I arrived. He always greeted me warmly, and I couldn't help but feel comforted by his kindness.

It was because of this that I was not surprised when he pulled me aside one evening.

"Bella? Since it's my last night in town, I was hoping you might consider joining Edward and me for dinner. I spoke with someone who suggested a little Italian place not far from here. I'm sure you must be tired of cafeteria food by now, and it would mean a lot to me if you'd come out with us."

My first impulse was to politely decline—the idea of sitting across from Edward and sharing a meal was less than pleasant. Yet as I stared into his uncle's hopeful face, I found myself agreeing.

"That's very nice of you. Thanks for thinking of me."

"Wonderful. Why don't we all ride together? No use taking two cars and having to worry about parking."

"Oh, no, that's alright..."

He smiled in understanding. "In that case, let me give you directions."

Over dinner, Alec remained sensitive to my obvious discomfort. He deftly guided the conversation, sharing stories of his college years and the time he'd spent working on Wall Street. I couldn't help but compare his life with the world in which I'd grown up, yet I never sensed in any way that he regarded me as less than his equal.

"You're retired now?" Somehow I had difficulty reconciling the easy-going man in front of me with the hard-charging professional he'd described.

"Well, yes and no. I left the financial sector many years ago. I'd made enough money, and couldn't see staying in that kind of pressure cooker just to make more. I had an epiphany of sorts when I'd flown to North Carolina on business. It was a Friday, and the colleague I was meeting offered to take me out on his sailboat if I extended my stay. I'd grown up sailing, even did some in college, but not much after. By the end of the weekend I'd made the decision to quit my job and move to Wilmington."

"You just up and moved? What did your wife say?"

"I'm sure if I'd had a spouse at the time she'd have had plenty to say on the subject. Luckily, it was a non-issue. It took a few months to settle things in New York, then I flew down for a weekend to look at houses. I found one my first day out, and on the following day looked at boats. That's when I happened upon the Elizabeth Masen. It was love at first sight, and we've been together ever since."

"So you spend all of your time sailing?"

Alec laughed heartily. "A good chunk of it. But there's also a fair amount of administrative stuff that goes with it. See, I didn't stop with the Elizabeth. I'm not one of those people suited for retirement—too hard-wired to keep working. I just changed my focus."

He paused, taking a sip of wine before continuing. "I took classes and logged the hours to get my captain's license, then completed the additional requirements to add a sailing endorsement. Someone at the marina tipped me off to a trio of boats from a charter business that had gone bankrupt, which is how I ended up with the Irina, the Tanya, and the Katherine. I now own a nice little outfit just outside Wilmington. Best decision I ever made."

I snuck a sideways look at Edward to find him gazing at his uncle with undisguised admiration. As if sensing my attention, he swung towards me.

"Alec is being modest. Prendre la Mer is the most successful charter company in North Carolina. It's amazing what he's accomplished."

"Well, that may be, but I'm just grateful to be doing something I love. I'm too old to worry about things that don't fundamentally matter. As long as the sky is clear and the wind is good, I'm happy."

He smiled a little wistfully. "It was my hope that Edward might someday take over the business. But he has things that tie him strongly to Washington. I could hardly argue with that."

My knee-jerk reaction was _not strongly enough_, but I wouldn't voice those thoughts in front of his uncle.

"Oh...I suppose that would be a big undertaking." I turned to Edward. "I didn't know you knew anything about boats."

Edward shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Ah, I didn't. Not when I first got out there, anyway. Alec put me to work pretty quickly. I flew in right before the busy season, so I had to learn on the job. It was…challenging."

"It took a good while for your stomach to adjust." Alec looked amused at the memory. "But, you ended up being a natural. Lucky for both of us, or that would have been a long summer."

"I think the first month the guests were tipping me based on how often I puked."

"You were certainly part of the entertainment early on—between getting sick and getting sunburned. To this day I've never seen anyone turn as red as you did that first season. Thankfully everyone seemed to find you charming instead off-putting."

"So you spent your summers sailing..." Disbelief twisted my insides.

"I spent my summers _working_—crewing a boat is hard work. But I grew to love it, and really learned a lot."

I had no idea how to respond. I'd spent _my_ summers waitressing, as I did throughout the year, all while going to school and taking care of Grace. I almost choked on the unfairness of it.

"If you'll excuse me..." I pushed my plate away, and escaped to the bathroom.

When I returned ten minutes later, Alec and Edward were deep in conversation, stopping abruptly when they noticed my approach.

Edward scrambled to his feet. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's _fine_."

He seemed on the verge of saying more, but after a quick look at Alec, nodded and slowly sat down.

I picked at my food, as Alec did his best to shift the conversation to safer waters, but the genial mood from before was gone.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

That night I lay on the couch in my daughter's room, unable to sleep. I tried to relax by focusing on the steady sound of her breathing, but my mind refused to settle. Tomorrow was the meeting with the oncologist, during which Grace's treatment plan would be determined. If we were going to remain in Seattle, there were things I would need to arrange, and quickly.

I'd already been in contact with Guest Services about finding temporary housing should it become necessary. We wouldn't need anything fancy—even a studio apartment would do—but it needed to be inexpensive and within easy driving distance of the hospital.

I tried not to dwell on what might happen if we had to stay more than a few months. The school district had been very accommodating when I'd requested a leave of absence. But what if we were still in Seattle in September? Would I have a job to go back to? And how long could I realistically stretch what I had in savings?

My parents would help us any way they could, but their means were limited. In the back of my mind I knew I could probably ask Edward for assistance if it came down to it—but that was a scenario I strongly wished to avoid.

* * *

**A/N**

Before I acknowledge the usual suspects, I wanted to express my appreciation for the readers that are still with us. I am humbled by the positive response and encouraging words I've received. I realize it's a tough subject, and I thank you for being willing to stick with it.

As always, my undying gratitude to Immortal. You are probably the only person on the planet who could convince me to include the word _drool_.

Thanks to chris_erlyn—I'm not sure which of us gets less sleep, but I certainly appreciate you answering emails at 3 AM.

Thanks to Xtothey and Alla for allowing me to "talk" your ear off when I'm trying to avoid the dreaded re-write.


	7. Chapter 7

I don't own _Twilight_.

* * *

_Grace clutched my hand as we stood on the deck of the Wenatchee, watching Bainbridge Island grow smaller in the distance. The dark water of the sound passed silently beneath us, in contrast to the roiling emotion within me. _

My hands shook a little as I shifted gears, nearly missing the turnoff onto North East 89th Street. I drove slowly, the fading light making it difficult to see the houses clearly. I'd been here only once—a year and a half before—just six weeks after Edward had first contacted me about seeing Grace.

"_Are you sure you feel ready to do this? You don't have to, you know. I'm sure your father would understand if you wanted to visit with him a few more times before you stay over." I struggled to keep my expression neutral._

_She looked up at me, her green eyes wide and serious. "Mommy, I want to go. But I don't want you to be sad."_

Right before the road dead-ended, I spotted it, and pulled carefully into the driveway. After turning off the engine, I glanced around for a moment, not quite ready to face going inside. The house looked just as I remembered—modern and inviting with an expanse of well-kept lawn.

_The drive from the ferry terminal to the Wedgwood neighborhood of Seattle took only twenty-five minutes, and suddenly we were parking in front of a stylish two story house set slightly back from the road. I didn't have a chance to compose myself before the front door opened and Edward appeared. Grace unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the car door and sprinted towards her father as I trailed reluctantly behind._

"_Daddy!"_

_He scooped her up, spinning her around, and the ache in my chest nearly dropped me._

I found the key and got out of the car, grabbing my things from the trunk.

A deep breath…and I unlocked the door and stepped over the threshold.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

Staring at the man before me, it was hard to remember how he once personified everything I held dear. What had changed him from the teenage boy willing to dive into the ocean to save a stranger, to someone who could walk out on his wife and infant daughter?

I'd seen no hint of weakness in him in the beginning. He was always so sure of the right path—unfailingly strong in his convictions and belief in forever. _You are my gravity_ he would whisper to me before drifting off to sleep. And in those days, I believed him.

But gravity shifts, and suddenly you find yourself hurtling through space alone.

We'd spent the previous hour with Grace's oncology team, hammering out the details of her treatment plan: radiation, chemotherapy, regular MRI's, and endless blood tests.

Whatever hope I'd harbored that she could be treated close to home had ended—the hospital in Port Angels simply couldn't offer the pediatric expertise and range of options she might need. Now it was up to Edward and me to settle the more mundane details of our daughter's next few months, like _where we would live._

"I'd like to make a suggestion. Please hear me out before you say no." He looked away, nervously shifting before bringing his eyes back to mine. "I think you and Grace should move in with me—at least while this is going on."

He held up a hand as I started to object. "Just listen, please? I realize from your perspective it's not ideal. And it's really not my intention to make things more difficult for you. But I think staying in her own room would be easier on Grace, and we'd also be in a better position to coordinate things. Would you at least give it some thought?"

The idea of living under the same roof as Edward, even temporarily, seemed…ridiculous? Awkward? Unbearable? Something I would have preferred to avoid, certainly, but this was about Grace, not me. If I stepped back for a moment, I could see the logic in her staying somewhere she was already comfortable. And I had to concede it would simplify certain things—but perhaps complicated others.

An unwanted thought forced it's way to the surface. "Wouldn't having us stay with you put a crimp in your…uhh…social life?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. My only concern here is Grace. Everything else can wait."

I breathed an internal sigh of relief. It wasn't my business who he spent his time with. I wasn't even mildly curious unless that person was also spending time with Grace. Yet, for some reason I also didn't want to put a face to whoever that person might be.

"I don't know..."

"Do you really think renting a place is better? She already has everything she needs at my house. Besides, I only live a few miles from here. I've got a couple spare rooms, and a friend helped me finish the guest bathroom recently, so you'd have one to yourself. Your mom…uhmm…parents could even stay over when they're in town."

I was having difficulty finding a valid reason to say no. Everything he said made sense. It's not like it would be a permanent move; we'd stay a handful of months until Grace was in the clear, then go back home. Financially it would make things easier too, since I still had the mortgage on my house to contend with. And if living with him just didn't work, Grace and I could always find something else close to the hospital.

"Fine. We can try it."

"Let me give you directions."

He glanced down, but not before I saw the beginnings of a smile.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

Walking in the door a week later, I immediately regretted my decision to stay at Edward's. I could not help but feel hyper-aware of my surroundings, as if I were trespassing instead of here by invitation.

Everything about the house screamed _him_—from the books stacked on the dining room table to the row of shoes lined up neatly by the door. Yet, there was something foreign about it too. It was clearly the home of an adult, and that realization was jarring.

I found the guestroom without difficulty and quickly stowed my things. Curiosity got the better of me, and I couldn't resist the urge to peek into Grace's room.

I flipped on the over-head light.

There were shelves teeming with books, and a small television set with DVD player. A veritable zoo of stuffed animals populated the bed. On the dresser sat a framed picture of Grace and her father, which upon further inspection I realized had been taken outside the Planetarium.

Seeing her belongings, I suddenly missed her intensely.

It may have been Edward's turn to sleep at the hospital, but I realized I could still feel close to her here. I retrieved my pajamas and a book from my bag in the other room and settled into her bed to read.

Ten minutes later I was almost asleep. I turned to flip the light off, but instead of complete dark, my eyes were drawn to a faint glow coming from above.

_A galaxy of stars…_

Hundreds dotted the ceiling, forming constellations among the night sky panorama.

I stood on the bed, reaching up to trace my fingers along the luminous lines. How many painstaking hours had it taken to produce this?

That night I dreamt of Edward painting the sky.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

Grace was released from the hospital two weeks after surgery. She was overjoyed to be staying at her father's, and I had to admit the transition to living there was less troublesome than I'd expected. He seemed to make a point of giving me space, yet somehow was always available when I needed help with Grace.

After the first week, we fell into a routine. Grace would curl up on the living room couch after lunch, where I would read to her until she fell asleep. She would sleep soundly then, sometimes not waking until Edward returned in the evening from work.

Sunday was much the same. After eating, she settled in, making a little nest with the pillows and her favorite blanket. I stayed until her breathing became deep and even, before turning on the child monitor and grabbing my laptop and a handful of papers to spread out on the kitchen table.

I'd been working diligently for an hour when I glanced out the window into the backyard to see Edward sitting with a guest on the patio. His companion was a wavy-haired blond man who held a beer in one hand while gesturing fluidly with the other. Almost unconsciously I strained to hear what they were saying, then scolded myself for my unwarranted nosiness. Edward's friends—Edward's life—were his own business. He had the same right to privacy as I did.

But I couldn't stop myself from wondering.

This was the first time since we'd come to stay that I'd seen evidence of whatever life he lead outside of his role as Grace's father. There were only a handful of pictures displayed in the house—a few of Grace, one of his father and uncle, and one of himself standing on the deck of a sailboat against a deep blue sky. Since our dinner with Alec, I'd found myself inventing a fuller history of his time away. Rationally, I knew I could probably just ask and he would tell me, but on some level I didn't really want to know the details.

And if I were being honest, what I really feared was finding out that he'd been happier without us.

I forced my mind back to the task at hand, refusing to grant myself permission to keep watching. But I was unable to focus, my thoughts drifting to the conversation I knew was taking place outside. When I finally resolved that it was truly none of my business, I dove back into my work with such absorption that I somehow missed the sound of the back door opening.

A warm voice with more than a trace of the south pulled me from my thoughts, making me jump. "Excuse me. I just came in to grab some beer. You're Bella?" He held out a hand, smiling at me tentatively.

"Oh…hi. Nice to meet you…?"

"Jasper. I'm a friend of your…of Edward's."

"I'm Grace's mother…ah, you already knew that."

"I did." He smiled at my words, this time with more warmth, then glanced out the window before looking again at me. "Well, it was nice to meet you. I'd better get back out there before he decides I've absconded with his Fat Tire." He grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge and was heading out the door when he stopped and looked back. "Why don't you join us?"

"Oh, I'm not sure..."

"I am. You look like you could use a break. And I know _I_ wouldn't mind the company of a pretty woman. Improves the scenery. We get tired of just staring at each other. Besides, I'm told you've got some wicked funny stories from your misspent youth."

I stared at him, unsure how to react. As if sensing my dilemma, he grabbed my hand and squeezed reassuringly.

"Don't worry. Whatever you got up to, I'm sure it wasn't that bad. How much trouble could you possibly find with Mr. Serious tagging along?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Okay, then. Surprise me. But do it as we're enjoying some of Edward's fine beer out back."

"…okay…"

I quickly shut down my laptop, grabbing the monitor handset before following him outside.

"Hey Eddy…look what I found skulking around your kitchen. A real live lady. I've corrected your oversight and invited her to join us. "

Edward regarded us for a moment before smiling wryly. "That didn't take you long."

Jasper's voice was rich with barely suppressed amusement. "Never does." He settled back into his chair, looking at Edward and me expectantly, as if waiting for the main attraction to begin. When we didn't oblige, he sighed dramatically.

"Okay, apparently I need to get the ball rolling. 'Jasper?'" He adopted a voice that sounded suspiciously like my own. "How did you and the fair Edward meet?"

Edward did a spit-take, practically choking while turning a deep shade of red…and Jasper suddenly had my undivided attention.

Sensing a laugh to be had at Edward's expense, I leaned forward and smiled sweetly. "This sounds like something I might want to hear."

"It'll be my pleasure to share it with you, darlin'. It's quite a gripping story, actually."

Edward made another choking sound before laying his head on the patio table in resignation. "There's no way you're keeping this to yourself, is there…shit…just get it over with. And Hale…any favors I hypothetically owed you? Consider it paid in full and then some. In fact, you better kick me over a few bills for that cold one you're drinking now. I'm revoking your open bar privileges."

"Oh, it's not that bad. Just a little unique. How many friends can say they were brought together by a tall, slender, red-head?"

At his words, I involuntarily stiffened. I glanced quickly at Edward. Maybe I _didn't _want to hear this.

Jasper turned his attention back to me, eyes full of mirth. "Some girls find Romeo here hard to resist. Tall, strapping boy like him…what's not to like?" At the look on my face, he laughed. "That was a rhetorical question, not an invitation to break out the bullet points."

"Duly noted."

"Good girl. So, I'm at work, mindin' my own business…did Edward happen to mention what I do? No? I'm an exotic animal vet at Woodland Park Zoo here in Seattle. Lions, and tigers, and bears—oh my! That kind of thing."

"That sounds interesting."

"It is. Y'all should come by with Grace sometime. I think she's named half the animals there already."

"Ah, you're the reason she's so interested in wild animals. She asked for an ocelot last Christmas and I counter-offered with a tabby cat. She wasn't interested."

"It's always good to aim high…isn't that right, Edward?"

A muffled _fuck off _emanated from his general direction.

Jasper wasn't even trying to contain his smirk. "As I was sayin', I was doing my thing when I saw this fool here wandering around the backside of the African Savannah exhibit. He was all dressed up, and at first I thought he was someone from the public that'd managed to sneak in."

At that, Edward sat up. "I was wearing my _badge_. And I was dressed for a _meeting._ Not all of us get to play with animals all day." He sounded aggrieved. Clearly this was ground they'd covered before.

"Alright, don't get riled up. It's neither here nor there. We got it straightened out quick enough anyway. Apparently there were some kind of cross-promotion strategy being discussed between the Aquarium and the zoo. Edward had just started there when he got sent over, and no one thought to give him directions to the actual building where the meeting was being held. When I realized he was lost, I offered to show him where to go, but I had something to do in the giraffe enclosure first."

"The giraffes at Woodland are pretty used to people. We've got an elevated area where twice a day the public can feed them by hand. And by nature, they're one of the gentler species we have. A real joy to work with."

"Oh yeah, pure joy..." Edward's voice was heavy with sarcasm.

Jasper addressed me then. "Do you know much about giraffes?"

"Only the stuff everyone else knows I guess."

"You know what they eat?"

"Uh…trees? Tree branches…?"

"Precisely. They are perfectly designed for stripping leaves off the higher branches. Because of their neck of course, but also because of their tongue. Now the giraffe's tongue is quite long." He held out his hands, indicating a span of eighteen or twenty inches. "And it's not just long, but what's referred to as prehensile. That is, they can use it much like a person would a hand. To grip and pull."

He paused to take a couple of leisurely drinks off his beer. I looked sideways at Edward, a dark suspicion forming in my mind. Surely he wasn't suggesting…no. No way.

Jasper appeared in no hurry to continue the story. He re-crossed his legs and took another contented sip, smiling benevolently for a long moment. I was confused at his sudden reticence until I again glanced at Edward. He was frozen in place, mortification evident in every line of his body. And his friend was enjoying every minute of it.

"Hmmm, where was I…oh yes, the lovely giraffes. So, at that time we had several young ones, just coming into full maturity. Four males, but only two females. Now typically the females prefer the older, more dominant males, but one of the girls had refused the overtures of every male who'd attempted courtship. We needed to make sure she was healthy, so earlier in the day we'd separated her from the herd so she could be sedated and examined. This was the girl I needed to check on before I could help Edward find his way around."

"Regrettably, I must admit to a lapse in judgment. I should never have let him into the enclosure with me. I feel very badly about that, because I fear Edward no longer enjoys these magnificent creatures in the manner he did before. Sadly, he feels compelled to admire them only from afar…preferably as far away as possible."

"Did you know, Bella, that animal tranquilizers can have a similar effect as alcohol does on people? Relaxes you of course, perhaps lowers your inhibitions…and makes people who might not otherwise interest us look appealing. If giraffes liked to party, Xylazine would probably be their inebriant of choice."

Throughout this, Edward had been shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I thought I caught the occasional _asshole, _but couldn't be sure.

"I'd given the girl—Janie—enough of a dose that I expected her to still be lethargic. She _was _pretty relaxed still, so I encouraged him to see for himself how extraordinary these animals are up close. Apparently the admiration went both ways."

He paused again, looking down at his now empty bottle, before saying "I think I'll have one more. Anyone else need another?"

At that point, Edward had apparently had enough. He threw up his hands in exasperation before pivoting to address me. "Jesus…she grabbed my junk, okay? With her tongue. Practically ripped if off." He swung back to Jasper. "I thought I was gonna die. Happy now?"

"You looked like you wanted to, to be truthful. It was painful to watch. But at least I brought you an ice pack and some very nice painkillers."

"After you quit laughing."

"You can hardly fault me for that. Besides, you probably enjoyed your shindig that day far more than you would have ordinarily—the swelling notwithstanding. I've often wished I could take an opiate before sitting through some of those meetings."

"I'll happily make it necessary for you if you don't knock it off with the stories. Seriously."

During their exchange I'd struggled to keep my composure. There was no way around it—the visual of Janie the Junk-Grabbing-Giraffe was _funny_. In my mind, she suddenly grew long eyelashes and wore lipstick—a kind of Jessica Rabbit of the African Savannah. And with that thought, the tenuous hold I'd had over my laughter dissolved. I laughed until my sides hurt—until tears were streaming down my face and I was gasping for air. Several minutes later, when I'd finally calmed down, I realized both Edward and Jasper were staring at me. The rueful look on Edward's face was betrayed by the barest hint of a smile, while his friend made no effort to hide his amusement.

I was just about to apologize for my outburst when a small voice came through the handset.

_Mommy? _

Edward jumped at the opportunity to escape, with a mumbled _I'll handle it _as he flew into the house.

Jasper and I stared at each other for a moment, before he arched an eyebrow.

"And that, darlin', is how you break the ice."

* * *

**A/N**

The next update will not be until after the holidays, as my lovely Beta will be gallivanting around the world sans internet connection.

To Immortal—Oy vey. We need to meet for a drink and take a load off almost as much as Edward and Bella do. And maybe eat chocolate. And curry.

To chris_erlyn—I'm running out of clever ways to say thank you, so the straight-forward way will have to do – Thank you!

To Xothey—Thanks for the conversation and the music.

To Alla—I officially nominate you to be the president of the Jasper Appreciation Society.


	8. Chapter 8

I don't own _Twilight_.

* * *

_It took me three long days to realize he wasn't coming home. Three days of jumping up whenever I heard footsteps on the stairwell. __Three days of his cell phone going directly to voicemail. Three days of trying to reassure myself that of course he would come back._

_Any other scenario was unthinkable._

_On the morning of the fourth day the doorbell rang and my adrenaline spiked._

_He must have lost his key..._

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

"Are you sure you want eggs?"

"Yeah."

"I could make spaghetti or hamburgers if you want instead?"

"Nooooo. I want scrambled eggs. With lots of cheese."

"Scrambled eggs with extra cheese coming right up."

"Don't forget the salsa!"

"Kiddo, I've been feeding you for seven years. I won't forget the salsa."

Grace watched carefully as I pulled the ingredients for dinner from the shelf I'd claimed in the fridge. Once she was satisfied, she scurried into the living room and settled on the couch. I heard the TV click on and the sounds of the Cartoon Network right as my cell phone began to ring.

"You have impeccable timing, as always."

"You're making dinner again?"

"Nothing too complicated. If I can't scramble eggs and keep up with your scintillating conversation at the same time, I'm in real trouble."

"Eggs again? Isn't this like the fourth night in a row?"

"The girl wants what she wants—what can I say. At least she's eating."

"Are you making something else for you and Edward? You guys must be really sick of eggs by now."

"It's not worth cooking something different just for me. And…he generally gets home kind of late anyway. I don't know what he does for dinner."

"You _could_ stick a plate for him in the fridge."

"We're not playing house here. He can figure out his own food."

"I'm just saying it would be a nice gesture, you know?"

"You and my mom getting together over coffee now?"

"It was just a suggestion. Sounds like he's been pretty cool about things."

"Yeah, I guess. It's not like we're making extra work for him though. He's not doing our dishes and vacuuming after us. I'm handling the household stuff as far as Grace and I go."

"Is dinner ready yet?" My daughter's impatient voice floated in from the living room.

"Just a couple more minutes!" I turned the heat up and threw another handful of cheese into the pan, maneuvering the phone on my shoulder as I stirred the eggs. "Jake, I should probably go. I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

"Same bat time, same bat channel..."

"Such a dork. What would I do without you?"

"Right back at ya. I'm trying to get things figured out on this end with my dad so I can get away for a weekend."

"That would be great!"

"Shockingly, I miss you guys."

"We really miss you too. Love you."

I nearly fumbled the phone when I looked up to see Edward staring at me blankly from the open doorway.

He cleared his throat. "Am I interrupting something?"

"What would you be interrupting?" I picked up the skillet and began scooping eggs onto two plates.

"Daddy!" Grace appeared suddenly, wrapping her arms around her father's legs.

"Hey, sweetheart." He looked down, his face softening. "Did you have a good day?"

She beamed proudly. "I showed mom Sushi."

Grace had felt well enough in the afternoon to give me a tour of the backyard, the highlight being the Koi pond that ran the length of the far fence. As we'd stood gazing at the colorful fish, she'd pointed out her favorite—a huge orange Koi with black accents. I'd had to bite my lip to keep from laughing when she'd revealed its name. Whatever else may have changed, Edward's sense of humor was apparently the same.

"Sushi, hmmm…?" I crooked an eyebrow in his direction. "From the size of him, maybe Godzilla would have been better."

He glanced up then, a cautious half-smile on his face. "If I had listened to Jasper, I'd have a pond full of B-movie monsters."

Grace scrunched up her nose in distaste. "Godzilla is _not_ a fish name. That's dumb..."

"You're absolutely right. Sushi is much more appropriate." I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Come on, we should eat while the food's still hot."

I headed towards the dining room, and she reluctantly detached herself from her father and followed. As we began to eat I sensed Edward hovering in the doorway. When I looked over, he shook his head once and walked back into the kitchen. I heard a cupboard door squeak, then the sound of the refrigerator opening.

After Grace and I were finished, she went upstairs to rest while I washed the dishes and wiped down the counters—using the time to mentally rehearse how I would approach Edward with my request.

He was sitting cross-legged on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal in the living room when I found him.

I took a deep breath and launched into my spiel. "If it's not a problem, I'd like to invite Grace's best friend over to spend the night. She's happy to be staying here, but I know she misses her friends, and Jessica is really a nice kid. School is out right now for spring break—this is probably the easiest time to arrange it. And once she starts treatment, I'm not sure that she'll be up for having company."

He stared at me, his mouth full of food and a faintly perplexed look on his face. I pressed on. "I really think she needs this. They won't get rambunctious, I promise. I'll find stuff to keep them occupied, and they'll probably want to watch a couple of movies. I'll make sure they don't make a mess—everything will stay tidy. Your stuff will be safe."

"Bella..."

"It would really mean a lot to her."

"I..."

"Just for one night?"

"Bella, let me finish. Of course she can have someone stay over. Why do you feel like you even need to ask?"

"…what?"

"This is Grace's house too. Do you think I wouldn't let her have friends over?" There was no mistaking the flare of irritation in his voice.

"Well, it's just..."

"'It's just that you insist on seeing me as if I'm not really a parent. This house isn't a bachelor pad."

"But..."

"I don't have drunken orgies here. There's nothing illicit hiding under the furniture. My place is as safe and appropriate as I'm sure yours is. Grace _lives_ here too—she just spends more of her time in Port Angeles with you."

"I didn't say..."

"You didn't have to." He scrubbed a hand wearily across his face. "How can I make this clearer? For the foreseeable future, this is your home. You're not a guest. You don't need to ask my permission for Grace to have friends over. You don't need to wash every dish you use as quickly as you dirty it. And you certainly don't need to quarantine your food on a separate shelf in the fridge. Okay?"

"I just haven't wanted to be intrusive." Embarrassed, I looked away.

"No Bella, that's not it. Of course I appreciate that you clean up after yourself. But it's like you're trying to erase any evidence that you're here. "

"I'm sorry, I wasn't..."

"I don't want you to be sorry—I want you to act like this is where you live. It would be easier on both of us."

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

Over the next few days, Edward's words continued to trouble me. I could admit to myself that he wasn't entirely off base in his assessment, although I wasn't happy that he would call me on it. I really _hadn't_ wanted to make more work for him by our stay—but I also hadn't wanted our time together to be mistaken for anything other than what it was. We were _not_ going to play at being a happy family—our living under the same roof was motivated by necessity and what was best for Grace.

The conversation bothered me enough that I had difficulty falling asleep at night. Once I did sleep, it was hardly deep or peaceful. By the time Thursday rolled around, I was so exhausted that when the alarm went off, I hit snooze for the better part of an hour, only really coming awake when I heard my cell phone ring. I staggered out of bed, unaccountably achy, and retrieved it from my purse.

"…hello?"

"Bella? We're actually running a bit ahead of schedule—hope that's okay."

"Oooh…hi Angela. Uh, yeah, that's fine. How soon do you think you guys will be here?"

"In less than thirty if traffic cooperates."

"I guess we'll see you when we see you, then."

Suppressing my irritation, I took a quick shower, then threw on an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt. As lovely as Jessica was, I wished her mother had stuck to the agreed upon drop-off time.

I was going to need coffee—and lots of it.

As I rushed down the stairs, I suddenly remembered I'd run out the morning before. This was a problem—there was no way I could referee two seven year olds on almost no sleep without a certain base level of caffeine running through me.

I knew Edward sometimes made coffee at home. Maybe there would be enough left for me to have a little. I could square up with him later...

When I entered the kitchen, he was pouring the last of the pot into a travel mug. We both looked at the cup he was holding, then back to the now empty carafe in his hand.

He grimaced slightly. "Sorry. I didn't realize you would want any."

"No, no. I usually make my own. I just remembered on my way down that I used the last of what I had yesterday."

Edward sighed and started to hand over his mug. "Go ahead. I'll pick something up on my way to work."

"Thanks, but I'll be ok. No reason to stop and make yourself late."

"Seriously, just take it. It's not a big deal. There's coffee on every corner in Seattle. It'll take me two seconds to get something."

"But..."

"Bella…" He huffed in irritation. "Take the damn coffee."

With that, he forced the mug into my hands and exited the kitchen. A moment later I heard the front door slam. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

Before I could think on it further, the doorbell rang and I started to panic. I hadn't even awakened Grace yet. How could I be this far behind before nine in the morning?

I plastered a smile on my face and opened the door to find Jessica and her mother, looking annoyingly chipper. "Morning! This is really a nice neighborhood! I had no idea Grace's father did so well!"

"Hi. Umm, I guess he does ok…? Why don't you come on in..."

I led them into the living room, before awkwardly excusing myself to go rouse Grace. When I came back downstairs, Angela was inspecting the photos displayed on the mantle. She picked up the picture of Edward posing on his uncle's sailboat.

"Is this Grace's dad? He certainly is good looking. Now I see where she gets her gorgeous coloring and hair."

"They do look very similar, yes."

"I imagine it's hard to hang on to a man like that. When they're that attractive, they must have to beat the women off with a stick. You'd have to constantly worry if they were really _working late_. Who needs it?"

"I don't think…" I wasn't sure how to finish the sentence.

The truth was that I had no idea what had caused him to leave as he had. At the time, I had fleetingly wondered if he'd found someone else—but with an infant to care for, I didn't have the luxury of obsessing on the _why_. Later on, after the dust had settled and I had some distance, I decided it didn't matter. Whatever his reasons, the outcome was the same.

Not that it was any of her business.

"It was a long time ago. We were pretty young."

She looked at me knowingly. "And men being what they are..."

"And what is that exactly?"

I looked up, startled by the sound of Edward's voice. He stood in the front doorway, jaw clenched, holding a to-go cup in each hand.

Angela took a small step back and laughed nervously. "Oh! Hi! I was just saying to Bella how much Grace looks like you. I've always wondered where she got that beautiful hair."

Edward gave her a tight smile, before walking over and handing me one of the coffee cups. "Triple shot, 20 oz., non-fat vanilla, with your body weight in sugar."

"Oh, wow…thank you. You really didn't have to do that."

"Well…you know how us men are."

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

Grace and Jessica's high-pitched giggles echoed off and on throughout the day. They flitted from activity to activity, barely stopping long enough to eat lunch. Watching them together, you'd never know that Grace was dealing with a serious illness. The only reminder came when I overheard Jessica, in her innocence, ask my daughter what had happened to her hair. I held my breath, unsure how Grace would respond, but all she said was _the doctors cut it, _which seemed enough of an answer to satisfy her friend.

As the day wore on, I began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. The Midol I'd taken mid-afternoon failed to provide much relief, and by five o'clock it was all I could do to stay upright. While the girls watched a movie in the living room, I looked in the freezer for something easy to make for dinner. Waiting for the oven to preheat, I wrapped my arms around my middle in a futile effort to lessen the pain.

The sound of the front door opening and Grace's excited voice alerted me to Edward's arrival home. A moment later he entered the kitchen, the girls following closely behind, happily chattering away.

"You're home earlier than usual."

"I wanted to spend a little time with Grace and Jessica. Figured we could order pizza and break out the Wii." He inclined his head. "It would be nice if you wanted to join us."

"If you're willing to spend time with them, I think I may lie down."

"Are you feeling okay?"

There was no way I was sharing that with him. "I'll be fine."

He regarded me intently, glancing at the frozen dish of mac and cheese sitting on the counter, then down to where my hands rested, before his eyes returned to my face. "You know, I think I'll take the girls out for pizza instead. I'd be happy to bring you something home."

"Oh, you don't…well, actually, yeah, that would be great. If you don't mind..."

I could hear Edward instructing the girls to get their coats as I climbed the stairs to my room. I crawled into bed, curling up into a tight ball, wishing I were back in the comfort of my own home.

A few minutes later, there was a light knock on the door before I heard him enter. I kept my eyes closed as something was placed on the nightstand beside me, only opening them once the door closed again. I rolled over and was surprised to find a warmed heat pack waiting for me.

As I wrapped it around me, the once familiar gesture nearly reduced me to tears.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

Edward's kindnesses from the day before left me feeling even more off-kilter, as if I now owed him some measure of reciprocation.

I didn't want to owe him anything.

Given the current circumstances, my options were limited. But I _could_ offer to cook a nice dinner. I called him at work and made the invitation.

From my earlier perusal of his kitchen, I knew that he—or someone—had made sure that it was well stocked. I tried not to dwell on who might have been doing the cooking when I found a collection of high-end cookware. Did he really need three different sizes of copper crepe pans? Or a top of the line food processor?

I spread out on the counter the ingredients I'd picked up earlier in the day. After starting the meat to brown, I grabbed a good-sized pot and began to prepare the sauce.

Grace wandered in, having just woken from a nap, and plopped herself into a chair.  
"What are you making?"

"Spaghetti."

"Can I help?"

"You can grate the parmesan if you want." I set her up at the kitchen table, taking care to show her how to safely hold the cheese and grater, before returning to work on the sauce.

Her brow creased in concentration, she focused diligently for a few minutes before quietly asking, "Are you making dinner for everybody?"

"That's the plan."

"Oh, okay."

She redoubled her efforts, and a few minutes later announced she was done.

I took the bowl from her. "That's great. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Mom, I _said _I'm okay."

"I know, honey. I'm sorry I keep asking. Do you want to do something else?"

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

"Grace, this looks great. Your dad will be really pleased when he sees it."

She grinned up at me, clearly proud of her handiwork. I had assigned her the job of setting the table. Each plate, glass, and utensil, had been arranged with painstaking precision. In lieu of a more traditional centerpiece, she had retrieved one of the stuffed toys from her room and placed it in the middle of the table. Next to each plate she had set a name placard, her childish scrawl designating each spot as Mommy, Daddy, or Grace.

"When will daddy get home?"

"Pretty soon, I think."

"Will you help me get dressed?"

"Why do you need to change?"

"I want to wear my green dress."

"Sure, if that's what you want. But why do you want to dress up?"

She looked down as she answered me. "Cuz it's a special day."

"It is?"

"This is the first time I get to eat with you _and_ my dad."

"Oh…" _Oh_. Had she felt the absence of spending time with both of us together so acutely? At the thought, my heart sank. "Okay, then. I guess we better go upstairs and get you ready."

Once in Grace's room, I started going through her closet. I was surprised to discover that she was the owner of four green dresses, in addition to a plethora of other dresses, skirts, and jumpers in a variety of colors. I was a little taken aback by the excess—there was no possible way she would wear even half of these before she outgrew them.

I glanced back at my daughter, who had taken up residence on the bed. "Care to tell me which one of these you want to wear?"

"The butterfly one."

I pulled out the dress with the embroidered butterflies on the bodice, then motioned for her to come closer. "Okay, off with it."

She wiggled out of her clothes, and I steadied her as she stepped into the green dress, before zipping up the back. I took a moment to admire her. "You look really beautiful, honey."

She gazed at herself for a moment in the full-length mirror by the closet, before her smile dimmed.

"What's wrong?"

"I look ugly."

"Oh, Gracie, no! How can you say that?"

She reached up and touched the back of her head where the hair was just beginning to grow back. "I don't look like a girl anymore." Her fingers strayed forward to what remained, and I internally winced, knowing she was likely to lose the rest of it once treatment began.

I squatted down in front of her, taking her hands in my own. "Honey, you still look like a girl—a very pretty girl. Girls can have short hair too. Here…" I went over to the dresser and started going through the drawers. With the sheer amount of clothing she had here, surely there had to be a scarf among the mix. I found something I hoped would work in the second to bottom drawer.

"Come here and turn around."

She did as I asked, and I folded the off-white scarf in half before gently wrapping it around her head and tying it in back. Then inspiration struck, and I picked through the pile of barrettes on the top of the dresser until I found a matching set of silver butterfly clips. I anchored the scarf to her head with the clips, turning her around to face the mirror.

"What do you think?"

She smiled shyly before nodding.

"I think you look beautiful. Now, do you want to help mommy get ready?"

"Yes!"

We trooped into the spare room and I went through the clothes my mother had packed for me, looking for something slightly dressier than the jeans and sweats I'd been living in. I opted for a pair of dark slacks and a cashmere sweater that had been a gift from Jake.

"You look so pretty, mom! Can I do your hair?"

"Sure."

I knelt down so she could take out my ponytail and brush my hair. This was something we had done often when she was younger, and I closed my eyes, letting myself pretend for a moment that we were back home and everything was normal.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs brought me swiftly back to reality.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

As we sat down to dinner, Edward complimented Grace on how well she had set the table.

"How did you know I did it?" She looked mystified.

"Hmmm. I think it was the Little Mermaid centerpiece that gave you away. I'm guessing your mother would have used flowers. Don't worry though—Ariel is even better than flowers, right Bella?" He winked at me conspiratorially.

"Absolutely."

I reached over to pick up the pasta bowl when Grace yelled, "Wait!"

Edward and I both froze. "What?"

"You can't eat until we say the food blessing." She offered a small hand to each of us, then looked pointedly at her father and me until we joined hands. "I'll say the prayer."

As her sweet voice recited the blessing, I bowed my head and closed my eyes, then peeked up at her. Her eyes were open, and she was smiling as she looked at Edward's and my hands together.

Watching Grace's delighted face during the meal, I was saddened that I'd never been willing to have us eat together before now. I knew my bitterness toward Edward was primarily to blame, and that thought shamed me. _Grace's needs come first_ had always been my mantra, but in this instance, I had clearly failed her. I swore to myself that we would do this more often, even after our time in Seattle was done...

"Mom!"

"What? Sorry, honey. Can you repeat that?"

"I said, Grandma Esme wants to take me to go see tea."

"Go see T?" I looked at Edward hoping he would clarify.

"There's a formal tea room in Seattle my mother goes to sometimes. Queen Mary Tea? Something like that. I guess they've got a special tea time for kids and she thought Grace might like to go before…"

He sounded unsure how to finish the sentence, so I jumped in. "Before we go back to Port Angeles? I think that's a great idea."

Edward looked at me gratefully while Grace bounced in her seat.

"Did Grandma Esme say when she wanted to go?"

"I dunno. Can we call and ask her now?"

"Why don't we wait until after we've finished eating, then call her."

"Okay!"

Laughing at her enthusiasm, I glanced over at Edward to see that he was staring at me. I raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but he shook his head and looked away.

We finished the rest of our meal with Grace happily talking a hundred miles a minute, filling what could have been uncomfortable silence. When she began to noticeably tire, I suggested Edward take her upstairs while I cleared the dishes. I was putting away the last of the leftovers when he entered the kitchen.

"She's out cold."

"I'm not surprised. After I finish up here, I guess I should call your mom about the tea thing."

"Yeah..." He said nothing for a moment, as I began to fill the sink with soapy water. "Do you want some help?"

Did I want his help? Or, more to the point, was I comfortable allowing this minor domestic ritual between us? He sensed my hesitation, and pressed his case.

"Come on—you did all the cooking. I can do the washing while you dry."

He slid in beside me, gently edging me out from in front of the sink. "No point in you getting all wet. That sweater is probably…I mean…" He suddenly realized what he'd said and tried to backtrack. "Ah, that came out all wrong. The wet thing, I mean. I wasn't suggesting..." He started to look seriously flustered.

"It's okay, I knew what you meant. I'm fine with drying."

Working in silence, we finished the dishes in short order. I excused myself to check on Grace, then called Esme. When I came back downstairs, Edward had curled up on the couch with a book, although he didn't actually appear to be reading. I took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs across from him.

He glanced over his shoulder, before sighing and setting his book down beside him. "Hey..."

"Hey, yourself." The words hung there.

After a minute, he tried again. "So…ah…." He let out a mirthless laugh. "I think I was doing better back in the kitchen."

"Oh, I don't know. I think silence suits you. Or maybe, your silence suits _me_." I laughed a little at my own joke and he grimaced.

"Nice that you're still laughing at my expense, Swan."

"Better than the alternative." I wasn't entirely successful at keeping the sharpness from my voice.

He took a deep breath and leaned forward. "I'd really like it if maybe we could talk."

"You want to talk now? How wonderful for you. You're a little late, though." I could feel my body start to tense all over, and I fought the urge to bolt.

"Don't you think it would be better—easier for both of us—if we cleared the air a little?"

"You know, I really don't feel the need to go over old history. We can talk about things concerning Grace—that's fine—but that's it. You surrendered the right to anything else a long time ago."

He leaned back, running a hand nervously through his hair. "It's just…fuck…Bella, I'm sorry. For everything. I don't know what else to say, I really don't. I owe you an explanation..."

"Stop." I held up a hand. "I don't care about your reasons. There's nothing you could say that could even begin to justify what you did. Nothing. We're not discussing this." I started to rise, but he leaned forward and grabbed my arm.

"Please don't go. Please. I'm sorry I brought it up. It's just…watching you with Grace is almost painful. You've done such an amazing job with her. And it kills me that I wasn't a part of that."

I sat back down and glared at him. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Really? Because from where I sit, you made a conscious decision to _not_ be there." I swallowed convulsively. "If you didn't want to be married to me, well, that was your right. But for all intents and purposes, you just disappeared. You made no effort to see Grace for five years. Were you even curious how your daughter was doing? Did she even cross your mind, other than the once a month you had to write a check? Oh…wait a minute…you didn't even have to do that. It was all efficiently handled by the Cullen family lawyers. _How convenient_."

He dropped his head in his hands in a gesture of defeat. In that moment, I should have felt better—lighter—for having finally unloaded. Instead, all I felt was empty.

I curled back into my chair. This was exactly the conversation I had wanted to avoid.

As the minutes stretched on, I could hear his uneven breathing, could feel his distress, but could not bring myself to take any of it back. I knew I should just go upstairs—that the smartest thing, unequivocally, would be to end the exchange.

When finally he spoke, he sounded resigned. "Bella, I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone. Just tell me what you want from me, or if you feel like you need to stay somewhere else."

I shook my head. "No. Grace is happy here and I'm not going to do anything to upset her. We'll get Grace through this, then you can go back to your life and I can go back to mine."

I stood to leave. This time he didn't stop me.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

_My confusion at the sight of the neatly dressed man in front of me must have been obvious. He smiled in sympathy before gently asking if I was Bella Cullen. When I answered in the affirmative, he handed me a set of official looking documents._

_Edward had filed for divorce._

_My hands shook violently, forcing me to lay Grace in the safety of her crib. When I finally pulled myself together enough to examine the papers, I discovered a sealed envelope attached to the last page. I ripped it open, expecting a note of explanation…something…anything…that would make sense of this. Instead, there was a cashier's check for five hundred dollars, along with a cream colored business card from the legal firm of __Preston, Gates & Ellis_.

Two words were elegantly written on the back.

_Call them_.

* * *

**A/N**

Apologies for the length of time between updates. Took me a little while to get my pen working again after my lovely Beta returned from her travels.

Sincere thanks to Kelly Provence and PeskyMac of Twi-Fic Promotions. I really appreciate the kind review on your site.

Along those same lines, thanks to "Mr. Green" at PIC Fan Fic Corner for his/their very nice write up.

One of the women who reads BSW is a very talented NW musician named Valerie Marie. She emailed me about a song she wrote that was inspired by her thoughts on Bella's life as a single mother. The song is called Wake Up, and can be heard on Valerie's Lagan Music Publishing page. You can listen to it on the music player on the left hand side of the page— should be the last song on the list. It's quite haunting.

http:/www(dot)facebook(dot)com/pages/Valerie-Marie-Leslie/132963710072554#!/pages/Lagan-Music-Publishing/132826883419381

And I know I've said it before, but thank you all for sticking with this not-always-easy-to-read story.

To my amazing Beta immortal—if I could buy you an English castle, complete with Rob and TomStu in residence, I would.

To chris_erlyn—who never fails to answer my occasionally head-scratching emails.

To Xothey—thanks for your calm perspective when I was freaking out.

To Alla—your pre-reading and other random bits of help are always appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

4:33 A.M. stared back at me in unforgiving red as I squinted at the clock_. _

If I closed my eyes, I could still hear the rush of water against the shore.

Making my way quietly downstairs, I put on a pot of coffee before spreading out the medical literature I'd collected on the kitchen table.

…_lack of consensus regarding the use of Helical Tomotherapy (IMRT) versus 3-D conformal radiation…_

My mind drifted…

With effort, I forced it back.

…_superiority of proton therapy on some ependymomas…_

I read the same paragraph three times before finally giving up and laying my head on my arms.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

I'd long ceased counting sheep, and had instead resorted to naming the elements on the periodic table—backwards.

It hadn't worked.

After tucking Grace in, I'd chosen to hide in my room rather than go back downstairs. Unfortunately, Edward being out of sight did nothing to calm my mind; instead I found myself restless and unable to sleep. Finally in desperation I grabbed my phone.

_If you've reached this message, I'm likely engaged in deep philosophical thought or feats of extreme athleticism. I assume you know what to do…BEEP._

"Hey, Jake. I know you're probably out having a life, but call me when you get a minute? It's not an emergency or anything, but…yeah. Call me. Thanks, bye."

Feeling more than a little pathetic, I placed the cell on the bed next to my pillow.

Ten minutes later it rang.

"Was starting to think you were ignoring me…"

"Uh…hi, honey, it's your dad."

"Oh…hey. Sorry…is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be?"

I rolled over and glanced at the clock. "You just don't usually call this late, that's all."

"Was having a little trouble getting to sleep, and I figured you might still be up."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Scooting into a sitting position, I wrapped the comforter securely around me.

"Anything in particular keeping you awake?"

"The world we live in, and life in general…kind of everything, I guess. We're meeting with Grace's radiation therapy team in a couple of days."

"Your mom told me. That's got to be stressful. How's Grace holding up?"

"She seems to be handling it better than I am. Although…I don't really think she understands enough about it to be scared. The appointment is only a simulation, but they have to get everything dialed in so she can start on Monday. The treatment itself is not supposed to hurt. Right now, I think she's more worried they might have to shave part of her head again."

"Yeah, poor kid. At least it will grow back. Is Edward going with you guys?"

"That was the plan."

"I know you're not thrilled about staying with him—and you know my views on the boy—but I'm kind of glad you've got someone there to help you if you need it." He cleared his throat. "Things are still going okay, right?"

"Yeah, more or less."

"Has there been a problem?"

"No, not really."

"But…"

"Well…he tried to talk to me tonight. About what he did…our divorce…Grace."

"Hmm. Not surprised. What'd he have to say?"

"We didn't actuall_y_ _talk _about it. He started to apologize and I kind of shut him down. I'm not interested in listening to him try to justify himself."

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

"Sounds like you handled it as you saw fit. Not sure what input you want from me here."

"I guess…I don't know." I let out a frustrated breath. "It's not like I _owe _him the opportunity to explain himself or anything."

"No, you don't."

"He doesn't have a right to expect anything from me."

"No, he doesn't."

"Why does it sound like you're disagreeing with me even though you're agreeing with me?"

"Well, I don't think you owe him. And I don't think he has a right to expect you to hear him out. Certainly not with the way he handled things when he left. But…that's not to say that it wouldn't be ultimately beneficial for _you_ to get some answers."

"It wouldn't change anything!"

"It wouldn't change anything in the past, that's true."

"So you think I _should_ talk to him?"

"Look…I think he acted like a coward. And I'm not going to be like your mom and try to gloss over or minimize his actions. But…I think for your own sake, have the conversation. It doesn't have to be tomorrow or next week. But do talk to him. And let _him_ talk. You may not like what he's got to say, and that's understandable. You don't have to be friends, but the one relationship you _have_ to have with him is parent to parent. And that's not going away."

"But…"

"You wanted to know what I think—that's what I think. In the long run, you'll feel better that you got some answers."

"Is that what you did with mom? When she came back?"

"Uh…well, our situation wasn't quite the same as yours. I already had a pretty good idea why she left. You were so young then that you probably don't remember, but when she came back, she didn't move in right away. It took about six months and a lot of frank discussion before I was comfortable with giving it another go."

"But I'm _not_ looking to get back with Edward."

"I understand that. But you are raising a daughter together, even if she's spent most of her time up 'til now with you. And you're going to have to deal with him for as long as he's in Grace's life. So why not make it easier on yourself? It's got to be better to know what happened than to always wonder."

"Maybe I don't want to know. I mean…what if he only married me because he felt like he had no choice? You've met his mom…" My voice dropped. "What if he really considered Grace a mistake after all? Am I better off knowing that?"

"Oh, kiddo…I honestly don't know what was going through his head when he left, but I don't believe he married you because he felt like he had to, or because he was worried about what people would think. Maybe he's not the stand-up guy we thought he was, but I do think he was sincere at the time."

"I guess ultimately it doesn't matter. Bottom line, he still left." I felt the familiar bleakness settle over me, and knew I needed to change the subject quickly. "So when are you and mom coming to visit again?"

"We're working on it. Hopefully sometime next week."

"You can stay with us here, you know. I can sleep with Grace and you guys can use the room I'm in."

"No, that's okay. Your mom and I can get a hotel. I'd rather not bunk with Edward, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, I get it. Well…thanks for letting me vent a little."

"Anytime, honey. Don't tell anyone, but every once in a while I'm good for more than catching fish."

"No one would believe me anyway. Love you, and tell mom I'll call her tomorrow. 'Night."

Feeling only slightly better, I burrowed back under the blankets.

…Calcium…Potassium…Argon_…_Chlorine_…Sulfur…__Phosphorus…Silicon…_

_There's nothing but shades of gray, from shore to horizon. _

_We hold hands, leisurely making our way down Third Beach._

_Every few minutes, she pulls free, running ahead when something interesting catches her eye. The further we walk, the more laden with treasure her pockets become. Seashells, tiny pieces of wood, and water smoothed rocks…handfuls of rocks. We pause, and I can't help but brush the errant hair from her face._

"_Why don't we stop here for a moment and rest."_

_I perch carefully on a piece of driftwood as Grace moves closer to the water. She kneels down, placing her hands reverently on the wet sand, then methodically begins to dig. When she is satisfied, she empties her pockets, organizing the contents into neat piles._

"_Mommy, can you help me?"_

_I kneel beside her and together we begin to build, sculpting the sand with our hands, using the rocks to fortify the perimeter. Soon our supply is depleted, and Grace scours the beach for more as I decorate the sides of the castle with seashells. When she returns, she works frantically, piling the rocks higher and higher before rushing away to collect even more._

"_Sweetie, don't you think…"_

"_It's not enough!"_

"_But you can't bring over every rock on the beach…"_

"_How else is Daddy going to build a house?"_

"_I don't understand…your father has a house…"_

"_He told me he didn't build it strong enough. That's why I need to find more. So he can build a new one that can't wash away."_

_In the distance, I hear the faint cry of seagulls…_

_Suddenly, a strong wind sends sand swirling into the air._

_Instinctively I throw up my hands, closing my eyes_

_When I open them, I'm alone on the beach._

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

"You should probably wrap it up. We still need to pick up something for dinner."

Grace continued to scrutinize the rows of library books. "Mom, just a few more minutes, _please_?"

"I don't think we can carry any more than what we already have. We'll come back as soon as you run through these, okay?"

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

"You have a doctor's appointment tomorrow, remember? Besides, I don't think even you can read all these in one day. Come on…"

She dragged her feet as she followed me to the checkout counter. "I bet _Dad_ will let me come back tomorrow."

"You won't need to come back tomorrow, Gracie." I tried to keep the irritation from my voice.

"I can if Dad says I can!"

_And here it is. _

It was inevitable that Grace would realize she might be able to circumvent my authority by going to her father, and I kicked myself for not having discussed it with him sooner. Now the time had come, and I was going to have to deal with it whether I was ready or not.

Turning around, I looked her square in the eye. "You're not going to get a different answer just by asking your dad. He and I will always make sure your needs are met, but that doesn't mean you're going to get everything you want exactly when you want it. And if he and I disagree about something, his say on the matter doesn't overrule mine."

"So you're the boss of him too?"

"No, that's _not _what I said. You father and I are…equals." The words burned in my mouth. I glanced around, then lowered my voice. "We're _not _having this discussion here."

She was quiet all the way to the car.

We stopped at a nearby restaurant, and Grace balanced the bag of take-out on her lap on the way back to the house. When we pulled into the driveway, I immediately noticed something sitting on the front porch.

_Flowers?_

As we approached, I realized that it wasn't a giant bouquet of flowers, but a giant bouquet of chocolate flowers, individually wrapped in a rainbow of hues, sitting in a vase.

"Wow…Mom, is this for us?"

"I'm not sure, honey. Let's take a look at the card."

_Forgive me Bella  
For I failed to check my phone  
Last night I got laid _

Leave it to Jake to apologize in Haiku and brag about his love life at the same time.

"Who's it from? Can I see? Can I have one?"

I stowed the card hastily in my purse. "It's from Jake, and _no_, you cannot see it. But you can have a _part _of a flower after dinner."

"Why can't I have one right now?"

"You know the drill—dinner first, then sweets."

With a disgruntled look, she helped carry the food inside as I gingerly picked up Jake's extravagant apology. I set it on the kitchen table, before unpacking our meal. As we ate, Grace talked non-stop, her earlier pique forgotten.

"…me and Jessica this summer. If her mom says it's all right. Dad said…"

"Uh-huh." I was finding it difficult to focus on her words.

"…on Sunday. But she said I have to wear a dress and…"

Unbidden, my mind returned to the unsettling dream I'd had the night before. In the light of day, I could recognize it for what it was. No matter how vivid it seemed, it was _not _prophetic—merely the manifestation of my current anxiety. Still, it left me with an uneasy feeling I couldn't shake.

"_Aren't you listening?_"

Grace's annoyed expression alerted me that I'd missed something requiring a response. I desperately tried to remember the last words she'd spoken but came up blank.

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm a little tired today. Can you repeat what you just said?"

She gave me the seven-year-old equivalent of the evil eye. "I _said,_ it's hard to decide between a astronaut and an animal doctor."

"You're trying to decide…?"

"What I'm going to be. When I grow up."

"Oh…well those would both be interesting jobs I bet. But if you go into space, you might be gone for a long time. Wouldn't you miss everyone down here? I would certainly miss you."

"Mommy, you can just _call me_. They have phones up there."

Just then I heard the front door open then close, and a moment later Edward wandered into the kitchen. "Hey, girls, how was your day?" He smiled at Grace, but studiously avoided looking at me—then did a double take when he noticed the chocolate bouquet. "What is that?"

"They're chocolate flowers! Uncle Jake sent them. Mom won't let me see the card but she said I can have a flower after dinner!"

"Part of a flower, Gracie." I corrected.

"Those are from Jake?" His tone sounded almost accusatory.

"He does tend to go for the grand gesture." I felt strangely defensive.

"I'm sure mom will let you have a flower if you want." Grace offered.

"Of course. Have as much as you want."

Edward stood a little straighter. "Thanks, but no. I'm sure Jake…"

There was a loud knock on the front door.

"Umm, I should probably…" Without finishing the thought, he walked out of the kitchen.

I could hear hushed voices coming from the foyer, then an unmistakable laugh.

"_Sounds like you need to get on it, then. Use some of that God-given charm you were so amply blessed with_."

I was unable to hear Edward's reply. After a brief internal debate, I peeked around the corner. His friend spotted me, waving me over to join them, and Grace followed closely behind.

"Hey, Jasper." Something about him made it impossible not to smile.

"Hello, darlin'. You're looking well. And…if it's not Trouble-Waiting-for-a-Place-to-Happen…how are ya doing, Miss Grace?"

She daintily took Jasper's outstretched hand before addressing him with an exaggerated drawl. "Hello, Mister Jasper. I'm just fine. It sure is good to see you again."

As I gaped at them, Jasper let out a hearty chuckle. "Sounds like you've been practicing."

"Is that for me?" Grace eagerly pointed to the wrapped package in his arms, all trace of the southern belle gone.

"It is." He handed it to her, and we all watched as she quickly ripped off the wrapping paper.

As Grace held her gift aloft, I made no attempt to hide my confusion.

Edward looked just as perplexed, his eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline. 'Umm, Jasper, I'm not sure…"

Grace pulled on the doll's long black hair. "Is it a…girl?"

"That, Miss Grace, is Bob." Jasper replied smugly.

We all stared at the plush toy, resplendent in dreadlocks and a red, yellow, and green knit hat.

"That was very…thoughtful…of you Jasper, but…" Edward seemed at a loss for words.

I jumped in. "It's really sweet that you wanted to get something for Grace, but a Bob Marley doll might be a little…mature…for her."

"No, no, no…you don't understand. You've got to _squeeze_ him. Here…like this." Jasper took the doll and enthusiastically pushed on his tummy. A tinny voice filled the room.

"_Don't worry about a thing,  
Cause every little thing gonna be all right.  
Singin', don't worry about a thing,  
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"_

Edward and I looked at each other, then down at Grace. She had taken the toy back from Jasper, and was holding it close, a delighted smile on face. When the singing stopped, she immediately squeezed it again.

"See? I knew she would love it. Everybody loves Bob." Jasper looked triumphant.

"Please tell me he didn't come with his own supply of green…"

"Eddie my boy, relax. Jamaica's finest son has helped me through some tough times. I'm hoping he might do the same for Grace."

Later that evening as I lay in bed, I could hear my daughter giggling in her room.

Bob sang to her long into the night.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

Pediatric radiation for Children's Hospital was handled through the University of Washington Medical Center, just a short drive away. We checked in, taking our place in the waiting room among the other anxious families. Edward pulled Grace onto his lap, burying his face in her hair, unwilling or unable to bear looking at the children who were fighting the same disease as our own.

Grace held her Bob doll tightly as she surveyed the other patients. Among them was a girl who appeared to be about her age. She rested in a wheelchair with eyes closed, a blanket wrapped around her frail body. It was impossible to guess what color her hair might have been before her illness. Every last bit had fallen out—including her eyebrows.

I nudged my daughter in a gentle reminder not to stare, yet found my eyes drawn back again and again to the girl. _Would this be Grace soon? _

When our name was called, Edward carried her as we walked back to the procedure room. The first meeting was with the radiation oncologist, who took scans of Grace's brain in order to define the treatment area. Next, we were introduced to the radiation technicians. They explained what the sessions would entail, and informed us she would need marks inked onto her head to correctly pinpoint the radiation.

"Are you going to cut my hair? It just started to grow back…"

"We'll shave as little as possible. It will be just a little bit more than what they had to do for your surgery. Okay?"

She nodded and looked down, then reached for her doll, clutching it to her chest as she shut her eyes. At the _whirr_ of the clippers, a few tears made their way down her face.

"_Don't worry, about a thing…"_

The technicians were efficient, and it took them almost no time to complete the job. They then fitted her for a radiation mask—an archaic looking headpiece that would hold her immobile—ensuring the beam would accurately hit its mark.

One of the techs pulled me aside while Edward hovered protectively as Grace lay on the table. "I know it looks scary, but in practice it goes quite smoothly. We'll give her something to help her relax ahead of time. It's not realistic to expect anyone to hold perfectly still for an extended period. Plus, it lowers the chance of her becoming claustrophobic and panicking."

I tried to imagine Grace lying here five days a week for the next six weeks as she was sedated and held down. It seemed utterly medieval and almost more than I could bear. I couldn't begin to imagine how terrifying this was going to be for her.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

I sat on the couch in the living room, staring at the spring downpour through the bay window. Rain had rarely bothered me, but now it seemed to reinforce my melancholy mood. Earlier in the afternoon, Esme had picked Grace up for their visit to the tea room, and Edward left the house silently minutes later. It had been five days since he'd tried to talk with me about our past. And in that time, we'd managed to avoid each other when not together with our daughter.

With utter clarity I could still remember the day I'd received the phone call. I'd just returned from the grocery store, bone-tired after a long day at work. If my parents hadn't had Grace with them, I probably would have ignored the ringing and let it go to voicemail. But I could not help worrying when she was away from me, so I'd rushed to answer the phone. The sound of his voice hit me like a physical blow, and I'd nearly dropped the handset in my surprise. _It can't be_ was my first thought, followed closely by, _why now? _Then, _how did he get this number? _My mother's last minute offer to babysit flashed through my mind, and I knew I had my answer.

Fumbling his words, he'd told me he'd just moved back to Seattle from the east coast, and wanted to start seeing our daughter. I could say nothing at first, my mind going absolutely blank. Into the silence, he began to speak rapidly, as if I might hang up at any moment. _I just bought a house, _he'd said_. It has a big fenced-in yard and is just down the street from a park. _Recovering myself, I'd asked him, _why? Why now? She doesn't even know you. _His voice became so quiet I could barely hear him_. I know…but I want her to…_

Occasionally, when we'd exchanged Grace for the weekend, he'd broached the subject of sitting down for coffee. I'd always said no.

After a while, he'd quit asking.

Until recently, I'd never questioned whether it was the right decision to keep him at arm's length—the events of the last few weeks had challenged that assumption. I now realized how much Grace needed to spend time with both her parents—together. But for that to work, Edward and I were going to have to discuss the one subject I'd wanted to avoid at all costs.

I continued to watch the rain fall, as the afternoon drifted into evening. I'd just begun to wonder when Grace would return when I heard the front door open and her high-pitched laugh as she came inside. Esme's soft voice mixed with Edward's, their muffled tones filtering back to where I sat in near darkness. I heard Esme leave, then Grace's footsteps on the stairs as she went up to her room. After a moment, light filled the living room as Edward entered and threw his coat on the overstuffed chair. He froze when he saw me, then apologized and started to back out.

I took a deep breath and gathered my courage.

"Edward…no. Don't go."

* * *

**A/N**

Apologies long for the delay, and thank you for sticking with it while we muddled through.

Going to make this simple.

To Immortal—I don't ever want to do this without you.

To Xtothey—You are a fabulous distraction when I desperately need it.

To Alla—Your input is always valuable.

To Chris—You're expertise keeps me from sounding like a complete idiot. Thank you.

To Violet—You are always there when I need you, no matter what else you have going on. Thank you for everything.

There is now Twitter - AmyZini

Can't promise I'll be interesting, but you'll get to see teasers other people won't. ;)


	10. Chapter 10

_The marble floor of the Cullens' guest bathroom was so highly polished I could almost see my reflection. _

_I adjusted my dress self-consciously, but there was no way to completely hide the bump. _

_Not that it was a secret. I'm sure even the minister Edward's mom had recruited knew._

_He wouldn't have been here today otherwise. None of us would be._

_I walked down the curved staircase and into the foyer where my father was waiting. He took my arm and walked with me through the French doors and out into Esme's rose garden._

_The gathering was small: just my parents, Edward's mom, and her parents. _

_I barely heard the reverend's words. How could I pay attention with Edward staring at me like I was his world?_

_He was my world, too._

_I'd never been more certain of anything in my life._

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

The moment was here, and I had no idea where to start.

His eyes never left mine as he settled himself warily into the overstuffed chair across from me.

"I think…I think I want to talk now."

"Okay." His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.

"Okay." My stomach began to knot and I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I needed to stay calm.

I utterly failed.

The volume of my voice made him jump. "_How could you just leave?_"

Edward was quiet so long I though he wasn't going to answer. And then, "Did you ever wonder why my mother didn't come to see you and Grace at the hospital when she was born? Or why she never came to the apartment?"

"She'd made her disapproval pretty clear when we got married. I'm sure she thought you could do better."

"She wouldn't have been happy no matter who I married. Not at that age…"

_Or under the circumstances…_I heard what he didn't say loud and clear.

"Are you trying to say you left because your mother didn't _approve?_" I fought to keep my tone even.

"No, not exactly."

"What then,_ exactly_?"

"You remember…of course you do…how we struggled, especially after Grace was born. Financially of course, but not _jus_t financially. We were fighting…a lot."

"Of course we fought. Neither of us were getting a lot of sleep between Grace, and your schedule. Things were hard, but we weren't unhappy…I wasn't unhappy…"

"Youwere pretty focused on being a mom…but things between us…it wasn't easy. If money hadn't been such an issue…" His voice trailed off. "I was failing my classes. I never told you because you were stressed enough and I didn't want to make it worse. And I _had_ to work as much as I did. As you know, my mom quit helping me completely once we got married. Said I was an adult and it was on me find a way to manage. So I was trying to balance work and school, and spend whatever time I had left with you and Grace."

"But we _were_ making it work. It wasn't going to be that hard forever. You just gave up?"

"Even with the money your parents sometimes sent, you know we were barely keeping our heads above water." He looked down. "My mom did come over to our place once. About two months before we…before I left. You were out cold in the bedroom. I think it was the first real sleep you'd gotten in a while. I had Grace in the living room, and was trying to keep her quiet so you could rest. I didn't know my mom was coming over, she just showed up. At first I was happy. I thought she'd finally come around and wanted to see her granddaughter. I offered to let her hold her—she _did_ hold her for a couple of minutes—but it became obvious that wasn't why she'd come."

He hesitated for a moment as if carefully weighing his words. "She made a suggestion…well, more like an offer."

My stomach bottomed out.

"She told me I looked tired and that she was worried about how I was doing in school—whether I'd be able to keep my grades up enough to get into grad school. How essential it was I keep my life on track. She said she was willing to help me again. And I was so relieved…so grateful…until I realized what she was really saying. There was a price for her help."

The suspicion and anger that had been building spiked sharply. "She _paid_ you to leave us?"

"I'm sure that's not how she would describe it."

"How would _you_ describe it?"

He shook his head, and looked up at me quickly before looking down again. "I was furious…I told her to get out and that I never wanted to see her again. And I didn't…until the night I left."

"So what changed?" I could barely get the words out.

"That last night…I came home from work early. Do you remember?"

I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was back in our old apartment. Grace had been colicky for two days, crying constantly, and I was as stretched thin as I'd ever been. I remembered Edward _had _come home early that night, and in a foul mood. We'd started arguing almost as soon as he'd walked in the door.

"I remember."

"I'd never felt like such a failure. The one thing I was supposed to do above all else was take care of my family. And I couldn't even do that…"

"I don't understand."

"My job…I was fired halfway through my shift. I'd made so many mistakes—going to work totally exhausted. My manager had written me up twice already. Then I screwed up again.

"I had no idea what we were gonna do. We had no savings. Your parents could only help so much, and my mother _wouldn't_ help. Not as long as we were together. It wasn't like I was doing you a lot of good at that point anyway." He laughed bitterly. "I went to her after I left. I hoped maybe…but she told me I wasn't being fair to you since I clearly wasn't ready to be a husband or a father. And I knew she was right. She said she'd make sure you and Grace were taken care of—that she'd handle everything—and I let her. We had the quickest divorce money could buy."

I was speechless. Of all the scenarios that had run through my mind, this was one I'd never considered.

"How could you think we'd be better off? Do you have any idea what it was like after you left? We had to move in with my parents…things certainly weren't easier. But, forget the money—you ran to the other side of the country and couldn't be bothered to see your daughter. Are you going to blame that on your mother too?"

"No—staying in North Carolina was my choice. I moved in with her right after we…but it was hard, knowing you were so close by. She said it was better to let the dust settle before I saw you both again. I finished out the school quarter but I was a total wreck. Right afterward, Alec called and offered me a place for the summer, so I flew out—thought it would give me space to get my head together. He didn't ask a lot of questions, just put me straight to work. At the end of the summer, I asked if I could stay."

"And of course he let you. Why should _you_ have to be responsible."

He sat up straighter. "It wasn't like that. He didn't say yes right away—he wanted me to go home and try to talk to you, and at least see Grace. But I couldn't do it…I _wouldn't _do it. I was just too ashamed. When he realized I wasn't going to change my mind, he agreed to let me stay as long as I was in school. He was able to pull some strings so I could enroll at UNC right there in Wilmington. I knew my mom would be pissed that I wasn't coming back, but I didn't care. On some level, I blamed her for my decision to leave—but it _was_ fundamentally my decision, I can't put it on her. She just made it easier."

"But all those years, you were going to school—sailing with your uncle—and you never bothered to pick up the phone to see how we were doing. Did you even consider what your leaving would do to us? To _me_? We deserved better than that."He

"You did. You absolutely did. I wish I could better explain…

"I kept telling myself that I just needed a few more months and then I'd be ready to face you. But the longer I put it off, the harder it became. After a while, I was convinced you wouldn't want to hear from me anyway and it would be disruptive for Grace if I tried to insert myself into her life."

"But a few years later, you did it anyway_."_

He sighed heavily. _"_Yeah_…_"

"So you finally got yourself together and decided to come back. And I'm supposed to be good with all this…"

"Look, I realize I handled things in the worst possible way. And I'm _so sorry. _You'll never know how sorry I am. In hindsight, we probably had other options, but at the time I felt like I was in so far over my head…like I was drowning and taking you down with me.

"But it's important that you understand—the problem was never _you_ or how I felt about you. _I'm _the one who screwed up—_I'm_ the one that couldn't hold up my end of things. Bella, it was never because I didn't love you."

I took a shaky breath. What he'd said bore the unmistakable ring of truth. I could see it play out, exactly as he'd described. And my heart ached for what we'd lost.

I had to wonder how different our lives would be, if Edward had just talked to me then.

The painful truth was, everything that had transpired had been unnecessary.

And I had no idea how I should feel about Edward now.

* * *

**A/N**

Real life threw me one heck of a curve ball right after the last chapter went up. Working on BSW was not even on my radar for a while—and for that I apologize. Hope the chapter was worth the wait.

To immortal – Thanks for your encouragement while I was dealing with Sara. And you're pretty good at the Beta thing, too… ;)

To Alla – Your help and good wishes are always, always appreciated.

To Xtothey – Glad you're feeling better!

To Violet – Go get healthy!

Thanks to IndieFicPimp for the kind review and to TwiFicTrivia for selecting BSW as one of your stories for the game. And…whoever nominated this story for Sunflower Awards in the Best Angst and Best Title categories. Thank you!


	11. Chapter 11

_My relationship with Riley had begun almost without my noticing._

_We'd met in the staff room the first week I'd started at the high school. Both being new teachers, it had seemed natural to band together as we learned the ropes. Shared lunches became meetings for coffee before work, a ritual I'd begun to rely on._

_The first time he'd suggested dinner, I'd panicked and almost declined. _

_Could I do this? Did I even want to? _

_Sensing my hesitation, he'd smiled reassuringly, letting me know in his gentle way that he understood. It was his compassion that finally made me say yes._

_After years on my own, it was exhilarating to know there was someone who looked forward to seeing me every day. Someone steady and reliable. Someone who could be exactly what Grace and I needed. I was positive that, given enough time, I could fall in love with him._

_On the day he met my daughter, I moved my wedding band from the bottom of my jewelry box to a box in the attic. _

_I waited to feel free._

_I waited to feel…more. _

_Grace's first weekend away with Edward was my last with Riley._

_Jake held me while I cried as my ring sank to the bottom of the ocean._

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

I caught myself staring at the Alice in Wonderland tea set with distaste.

In truth, it was exquisite: fine bone china with lovely renderings of the characters. Grace had come home with it when she'd returned from her outing to the tearoom with Edward's mother.

It had been a ridiculously expensive gift, and she loved it. All I saw was a transparent attempt on his mother's part to appear as the doting grandma. Perhaps that was being harsh. Possibly it was not being harsh enough. With the information I now had, I couldn't claim to be unbiased.

I focused on the teacup featuring the Queen of Hearts and imagined she was Esme. Off with her head, indeed.

I'd had twenty-four hours to think about what Edward had said. Nothing he'd told me had lessened my hurt over our shared history, but instead of focusing my resentment exclusively on him, it now had a broader scope.

I wondered if his mother even realized how her misplaced priorities had affected her own son. Somehow I doubted it. But she made an easy target.

By his own admission, Edward bore the ultimate responsibility. She may have loaded the gun, but he'd been the one to pull the trigger.

At least he didn't deny it.

Still, I couldn't imagine my own parents acting as Esme had. Whatever their feelings on the reason for our young marriage, they'd wanted it to be a success.

Perhaps the Cullen's defined success differently.

Edward's father had died the summer before his junior year of high school—two years before we'd met. He'd spoken of his dad on occasion, always with admiration and more than a little wistfulness. My impression was that of a decent man consumed by the demands of his medical practice, leaving little time to spend with his son.

But, as Edward always hastened to point out, Carlisle had provided for them well: a nice house, family vacations, and a private school education. He'd worked hard to make sure his only child lacked for nothing. It was a world away from how I'd been raised. At the time I'd thought he'd led a charmed life.

I was beginning to think I'd been the lucky one.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

_My mother attempted to tame Edward's hair into something semi-presentable as he stood patiently in his pressed shirt and slacks. When it was time for the musical interlude, he took Mrs. Soderlund's place at the piano, resting his hands reverently on the keyboard before beginning… _

The sound of a scale being carefully executed carried to the kitchen where I washed dishes. The vision it conjured in my mind was bittersweet: Grace and Edward sitting side by side at the piano, his large hands dwarfing her little ones as he showed her what to play. It wasn't hard to imagine this was how many of our evenings would have passed if things had gone differently.

_The familiar melody washed over me as it filled the small church, building to a crescendo before dropping again into delicacy. I held my breath, aware I was seeing a part of him I'd not realized existed…_

I pictured Edward and myself sitting in the audience with other parents, watching our children at their first recital—Grace in a green velvet dress, her hair loose and wavy down her back. The longing was sudden and sharp. I _wanted_ this life of family dinners and music lessons…the opportunity to watch our daughter grow into the amazing and well-rounded person I knew she could become.

_As the last notes of Jesu Joy faded into stillness, he caught my eye, smiling slightly. And in that moment, I fell a little deeper…_

A second of inattention and the knife I was washing sliced through my palm, rivulets of red coloring the soapy water.

"Oowww…damn it!"

I rinsed my hand gingerly under the running tap then grabbed a dishtowel to wrap around it. After a brief examination, the cut appeared deep but not enough to require stitches. I just needed to find where Edward kept the first aid kit.

I could still hear them in the music room and decided it wasn't worth interrupting Grace's time with her father to ask. After finding no bandages in the kitchen, I checked the guest bathroom and my own without success.

That left the bathroom off Edward's bedroom. I'd never set foot there—had steadfastly avoided going into his space for any reason. Would it be out of line if I did so now?

_He probably wouldn't care._

I opened the door, and the curiosity I'd always refused to acknowledge reared its ugly head.

My attention was initially drawn to the large unmade bed in the center of the room and then to the skylight above it. A floor to ceiling bookcase lined one wall, and a large number of photos were framed and mounted on another. French doors led out to what I assumed was the balcony.

Ignoring the throbbing in my hand, I approached the wall with pictures first.

Many of the photos I remembered seeing years ago. Several were of childhood friends, some were from a high school trip to Greece, and a handful were of him with his parents. One in particular caught my eye—Edward, maybe five years old, smiling widely as he sat on his father's shoulders. It was a happy moment, made more poignant by the knowledge his dad wouldn't live to see him reach adulthood. I'd previously not even considered the full effect of his loss, but remembering Edward basking in his uncle's attention, it suddenly made sense.

And then there was Grace. Photos of her from every age—pictures I _knew_ I hadn't given to him. Apparently Renee had struck again.

A quick perusal of his bookcase surprised me. In addition to the popular novels I would expect, he'd also kept a number of what were presumably college textbooks: volumes on marine biology, history, physics, astronomy—religion?

_The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Post-Liberal Age…__The Cambridge Companion to Liberation Theology…Embodying Forgiveness: A Theological Analysis…_

An entire shelf devoted to the subject.

I knew enough to understand these were serious theological readings, not books typically assigned for Philosophy 101 or even a comparative religion class.

What did it mean?

"Did you need something?"

I spun around, mortified to have been caught snooping, and found him leaning in the doorway; arms folded, his expression quizzical. Heat flooded my face.

"I…I just came in here to look for a bandage. I couldn't find anything downstairs or in the other bathrooms and I didn't want to interrupt you…"

He glanced at my wrapped hand and frowned, then to the books, before settling again on me.

A light touch on my arm, and I was being steered toward the bathroom.

"Well, hopefully it's not too bad. Come on. Let's take a look."

I stood with my hand over the sink as he poured hydrogen peroxide into the cut; little fiery pin pricks fizzed and foamed, causing me to squirm. His hold was gentle as he blotted it clean; his once familiar scent made me realize how closely we were standing.

I took a half step back.

Eventually the bleeding stopped, and after covering it with gauze, he began to methodically wind surgical tape around my palm.

"There was a time that much blood would have caused you to hyperventilate."

It was said conversationally, but I was distracted enough by my heightened awareness of him, it took me several seconds to respond.

"I've taken care of my fair share of skinned knees and worse. Grace went through a tree climbing phase a couple of years back."

"Did she?" The idea seemed to please him.

"It very nearly gave me a heart attack. Jake started calling her his little spider monkey. She was not amused."

"I'm sure." His voice suddenly took on a cynical edge. Neither of us said anything for a moment until, with a final turn of the tape, he was done. "You're good to go."

"Thanks."

We stared at each other, and my mind circled back to what I had seen on his bookshelf. Maybe this wasn't a good time to ask—maybe it wasn't even my business.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

I debated how to phrase the question. "Some of the books you have…I don't remember you being interested in religious stuff before…"

"Ah…well…"

"We don't have to…"

"I'm not…no, you're right. We probably _should _talk about it. It kind of relates to what we discussed yesterday. Why don't we head downstairs?"

I followed him down to the living room, and we settled on opposite sides of the couch. In the background, Grace still noodled on the piano.

Edward shifted around as if suddenly unsure, meeting my eyes before looking away.

With a sigh, he began. "You already know I finished school in North Carolina. I actually lived there for a total of about five years."

"Right."

"I wouldn't have even enrolled at UNC if going to school hadn't been a requirement of Alec's in order for me to live with him. But he insisted, so I did." His voice dropped. "I was in pretty rough shape when I first got there. I wasn't sleeping and…well, it was bad. Alec worked me so hard that by the end of the day, I didn't have the energy to stay awake at night and obsess over things. But when the charter season was over, I was right back where I started."

He glanced back at me then, as though trying to gauge my response.

"I realized what I really needed at that point was to stay as busy as possible. So I made sure my class load was heavy enough that I spent all of my time studying. I figured if I drove myself into the ground with school, I wouldn't have a chance to worry about anything else. And it worked for a while."

I understood the usefulness of exhaustion. Still, my own memories of trying to squeeze in study time hardly made me sympathetic. "How nice for you…"

"No…but it was necessary."

"Because of your own choices!"

He raised a warning hand. "I'm not disputing that. But you wanted to know about the books—I'm trying to give you some context. I know you had it worse, but that doesn't mean I had it easy. I just had the luxury of knowing _why _I'd left.

"At any rate…I kept up that schedule for about a year but eventually began to burn out—started not being able to sleep again and I kind of started to unravel…"

He grimaced then, and I suspected there was something more, but he didn't elaborate. After a beat he continued.

"It was during this time that I stopped by one of the churches along my drive home. There was nobody in the chapel, so I sat for a while and tried not to think. It was strangely calming, so about a week later I went back.

"I did that a few times, then one day there was a man sitting alone in one of the pews. He looked up and smiled, but left me alone and I didn't think anything of it. I saw him a few more times before he finally approached and introduced himself. He'd always been dressed in regular clothes, so I was surprised to find out he was one of the reverends there."

"He didn't find it strange that you just randomly started showing up?"

Edward shrugged. "If he did, he didn't say anything about it. They kept the doors unlocked during the day, so I'm sure I wasn't the first person to wander in. We ended up talking for a few minutes and he invited me to stop by on a Sunday. I figured—why not? And it was okay. A few people came up and said hi. Nobody asked any invasive questions or tried to put the hard sell on me. I ended up going back the next Sunday. It was nice to have the social contact; I hadn't bothered to make any friends at school. Alec was great, but he was always working on something."

The sounds coming from the music room stopped abruptly, and the door swung open. Grace appeared, looking between us curiously, before wandering over and planting herself in her father's lap.

"I'm ready for a movie now."

Edward smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Do you know which one you want to watch?"

"The moon shadow one."

"How about we go upstairs and get you all set up?"

"Aren't you going to watch it with me?"

"Can I join you in a few minutes? Your mom and I are talking."

"Is mom in trouble?"

He barked out a laugh. "No, no…well, not this time, anyway."

"Everything's fine, Gracie. If someone were in trouble, it wouldn't be me."

Edward adopted a mock-serious tone. "You mother rarely gets in trouble because she never …well, hardly ever…does anything wrong."

Grace nodded solemnly. "That's what she told me, too."

"I _never_ said that."

She erupted into giggles and Edward threw her playfully over his shoulder.

"Okay, kiddo. Let's cut your mom a break."

They were still laughing as he carried her up to her room.

I remained on the couch, trying to digest everything he'd shared so far. The Edward I'd known had always seemed strong, decisive and resolute—not one to second-guess himself or his decisions. Even after our previous conversation, I'd viewed his actions as deliberate and thought-out, not the result of desperation. That he'd felt driven to seek solace in a church startled me.

I was unused to feeling any sympathy for him, but now I had to consider that maybe I wasn't the only one who'd been devastated by our divorce.

_But even if it had been that bad for him, he'd made a choice to stay away._

When he came back downstairs, his expression was once again pensive.

"I'd like to continue if you're still up for it."

I nodded. "I'm curious where this is going."

"Right."

"It turns out the church was involved in a lot of social service-type stuff. They ran a soup kitchen and a homeless shelter, among other things. I was still struggling with my own issues, but the reverend I mentioned—Father Randall—suggested I might try volunteering with one of their programs. He always said that doing something for someone else would be a blessing for both. And he was right. It had been a long time since I hadn't felt totally worthless, but working at the shelter helped.

"It made me wonder if I was wasting my time with what I was studying in school. So I ended up taking a quarter off and volunteering full-time. In retrospect, I think I was looking for a way—some mechanism—that would help me atone for what I'd done to you and Grace. Of course, it doesn't work that way. I could never get out from under the guilt, no matter how much good I tried to do elsewhere."

"You're saying you had all this guilt, yet it still wasn't enough to make you _do _something about it? Unless you thought sending extra money for Christmas and her birthday counted as _doing something_."

At my words, he threw up his hands. "Nothing I'm telling you now is intended to minimize what I did. I really thought it was too late for me to come back and fix things. So I tried to find a way to live with it. That doesn't mean I didn't seriously regret my actions or that I wasn't sorry. I was—am—every single day. And I live with the weight of my failure—every single day. I'm sorry if you're not hearing whatever it is you want to hear. We don't have to continue this…"

"No, no. It's…never mind."

"Just bear with me, okay?" He took a moment to gather himself. "So…the books. I ended up talking to Father Randall about everything. He's the one who gave them to me. They were his from seminary school. He knew I wasn't even sure I believed in God, but he thought I might get something out of them anyway. I still don't know what I believe, but making myself think about it—about our place in the world—helped.

"The next quarter I went back to UNC and finally decided on a marine biology major with minor in non-profit management. I made sure my schedule had enough room in it so I could keep volunteering a few days a month. And I still went to church on Sundays and talked regularly with the reverend. It was his encouragement, along with Alec's, that made me realize maybe it wasn't too late—I _could_ come back and try to talk to you. And that it was still possible to salvage some kind of relationship with Grace."

"But you must have been in Seattle a while before you bothered to track us down. You'd already bought this house, right?"

"I bought the house pretty quickly after I came back. I'd already lined up the job at the aquarium before moving, so I was lucky enough to be working right away. And…uh…Alec gave me the down payment as a gift when I finished my masters."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. "Of course he did."

"I think he figured…and he was probably right…that being able to show I had a stable place for Grace to stay would make it easier for me to approach you. I'm sure he thought of it as helping me 'negotiate from a position of strength'. Once a businessman, always a businessman, I guess."

"I'm curious…what kind of reception were you expecting? What if I'd refused to let you see her?"

"I knew it was a possibility. I was hoping you weren't so bitter that you'd keep her away from me just to be spiteful. It didn't seem like something you would do, but I also didn't know exactly what your…situation…might be."

I thought immediately of how Edward's reappearance had made it impossible for me to continue with Riley. The memory still hurt—and made me angry.

"I had every right to find someone else. Grace and I deserved to have someone who was actually there."

He winced. "Absolutely. I knew that…logically. We were divorced and on opposite sides of the country. It would be unfair on my part to have expected you not to find someone."

"I'm sure you didn't spend all your time in North Carolina in school, on a boat, or doing church stuff." As soon as the words were out, I wanted to take them back. Whatever his response, I did not want to know the details.

"No, you're right. I didn't. Although, that _was _pretty much my life for a while. But eventually I made friends and tried to have some kind of normal life. Not that there was ever a time I didn't think of you. Maybe even resented the idea of you sometimes, as unfair as I'm sure that sounds. I wanted to be happy—in spite of all the guilt I carried around. But I never quite…it was like you were always, in a sense, _there._ I never really felt free."

_I never felt free, either._

Somehow we were now sitting so closely, all I could hear was the sound of his rapid breathing.

"So…here we are."

"…_aren't you coming_?" A plaintive voice from upstairs caused me to jump back, ending the moment.

Edward slowly rose and excused himself to join Grace, leaving me alone to make sense of things.

And for the second time in as many days, I had no idea what to think.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

_If I take the blue pill, I'll be eighteen again—young and in love, free from responsibility and sorrow._

_If I take the red pill, my heart will shatter into a thousand pieces—but I will have my daughter._

_The clock ticks as I frantically weigh my options._

_The man in black asks me again— "What do you want? You must choose…"_

_I peer into my teacup, the murky water making it nearly impossible to see the bottom. Yet something catches my eye, and I dip a tentative finger into the scalding liquid. I know the answer to the question lies somewhere at the bottom of the cup. _

"_What do you want? I can't see what will happen until you decide…"_

_It's a woman's voice now, and startled, I look up. _

_The perfection of her pale skin is a shock against the wildness of her black hair. I wonder if I should be afraid._

"_Do I know you?"_

"_Do you know yourself?"_

I jolted awake to find myself in darkness, a blanket wrapped securely around me.

* * *

**A/N**

Sometimes it takes a village…

Thank you to my ever-patient beta, immortal.

Thank you to Alla for being willing to read the drabs and dribbles

Thanks to Xtothey for making me laugh when I wanted to scream

And a great big shout out to Laura and Mac for stepping into the fray when I needed some extra eyes.

I would be toast without all of you—there are no words.


	12. Chapter 12

_The long summer stretched in front of us, our last before everyone scattered to different colleges in the fall. My parents had left town for the weekend, leaving me alone in the house with a stern warning not to throw a party. I'd compromised by just inviting Jake over. _

_He'd arrived with a stack of movies in one hand and a bottle of rum pilfered from his sister in the other. We stuffed ourselves with pizza and did shots, crying with laughter as we watched Zoolander and Hansel square off against the evil Mugatu. Afterwards we curled up on the couch, more than a little buzzed, as he played with my hair and I snuggled into his arms._

_How would I manage without him once we were away at separate schools?_

_I glanced up, admiring the high cheek bones and thick lashes I'd always envied. He was undeniably handsome, but more than that, he was the kindest person I knew. It suddenly seemed strange we'd never been more than friends._

_Raising an unsteady hand, I traced my fingers down the curve of his face. He smiled, but kept his eyes closed. I hesitated, taking a moment to screw up my courage before shifting just enough to touch my lips to his. _

_His whole body froze, jerking upright so abruptly I was thrown off balance and rolled onto the floor. It took me a moment to realize he'd fled to the opposite side of the room. _

_I was mortified. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I-"_

"_No, it's cool. You just…surprised me." He still looked flustered but moved to help me up and we settled again on the couch, this time facing each other. After an uncomfortable silence he finally asked, "Want to tell me what's going on?"_

"_I don't know. It's just…we get along so well. Why haven't we…"_

"_-ever gotten together?"_

"_Is there something wrong with me?" _

_He barked out a laugh. "Not a thing. Come on, B. Why would you think that?"_

"_You didn't kiss me back." _

"_No, I didn't." He let out a long breath, looking unexpectedly weary. "I'm not going to do anything that would mess us up. And it absolutely would in the long run."_

"_How do you-"_

"_Just…trust me on this." His voice was pleading._

"_So it's not me -" _

"_Definitely not you."_

_My stomach roiled just then, and I realized how truly drunk I was._

"_Jake?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_I think I'm going to be sick."_

_I made it to the bathroom just in time. He held my hair back as I retched, then made me brush my teeth before tucking me into bed._

_Right before I fell asleep, he whispered, "I know there's someone out there for you, but you'll always be my best friend." _

_The next day we met the boys down at the beach._

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

_Party rock is in the house tonight…_

_Everybody just have a good time…_

Pulled from a dead sleep, I felt around blindly on the nightstand for my phone.

"This better be good."

"Have you ever wondered if there was more to life, other than being really, really, ridiculously good looking?"

"What?" I pried my eyes open long enough to squint at the clock.

"You can't just come barging into people's lofts, wanting sex, then changing your mind, then telling them they've been in a day spa for a week."

"Jake, it's not even 7 o'clock."

"You're the opposite of fun."

"I'm the opposite of awake. Don't you have a Malaysian Prime Minister to kill or something?"

"Don't get bent. I was a little worried after the cryptic message you left last night."

"You couldn't just text me? Or wait for the sun to come up?" I didn't bother to hide my annoyance.

"Something about, 'I wish I had a time machine and a gun' sounded a little urgent."

"I may have been a tiny bit dramatic."

"Obviously you and Edward finally talked – so spill. At least give me the Cliff Notes version."

"Esme's an interfering witch. Edward is … I don't know what Edward is."

"That first part isn't really a revelation."

"We'd only been speculating before. I don't even want to be in the same room with her now."

"So don't. Can't you ask Edward to keep her away?"

"Maybe. Probably. I need to figure out how to handle this without it affecting Grace. And I'm not sure it's right for me to ask him to banish his mom when he's given my parents an open invitation to visit."

"I think he cares more about making you happy at this point than accommodating his mother. Just tell him it upsets you to see her, and you don't want to deal with it right now. That's not unreasonable."

"Ugh, I don't know. I'll feel him out about it I guess. Now can I go back to sleep?"

"Don't you want to hear about my hot date?"

"Not a chance."

_Click._

Burying my head back in the pillow, I tried unsuccessfully to wipe my mind of any thoughts of Esme's machinations or Edward's failings. I hated the quagmire of anger, insecurity, and regret dredged up by rehashing everything, but couldn't ignore the voice in my head telling me I should have dealt with it years ago.

I would have to deal with it now.

When I finally gave up on getting more sleep and stumbled downstairs, I found Edward standing over the stove making breakfast.

"Coffee's ready, if you want some. Already checked on Grace, and she's still out like a light."

"That's great, thanks." I settled myself at the kitchen table.

He handed me an oversized mug, then moved back to flip the pancakes. "I've had as much coffee as I need. Feel free to drink the rest of the pot if you want."

"Trying to tame the wild beast with caffeine, are we?"

"Would it work?"

"Possibly."

He examined me with a critical eye. "You didn't sleep well."

"Weird dreams." I shot a disgruntled look at the tea set sitting on the sideboard.

As the coffee warmed me, my mood lifted. I watched him working at the stove, surprised at how normal it felt. Somehow thing were different this morning – or I was different.

_What do you want? I can't see what will happen until you decide._

The words from the dream rattled around in my head. Maybe it _was _as simple as making a decision. I had no control over the choices Edward made seven years ago, but I could choose not to be tethered to my anger now. His apologies seemed sincere and I no longer doubted his commitment to our daughter. For Grace, I could be the better person and move past it.

The subject of his mother was another matter.

"Can we talk for a second?"

"Of course." He turned the burner off, then sat across from me. "What's on your mind?"

"I think…not sure how to say this politely, so I'm just going to throw it out there. I don't want to see your mother again. I'm not saying Grace can't see her, but I don't want to. Is there a way we can manage that?"

"You don't want her coming to the house while you're here?"

"The house, the hospital, wherever."

He was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. "If that's what you want."

"Really?"

He shrugged again. "I get it. She's not my favorite person either. If I didn't think seeing her was important to Grace, I'd ask her stay away altogether. Keeping her away from you is no problem."

His ready agreement took me off guard. "That was easy. Now I feel kind of guilty about even asking, especially since you were nice enough to tell my parents they could camp out here if they needed to."

"Your parents were always a lot nicer to me than my mom was to you, so it's hardly analogous. Is there anything else?"

"I guess not."

"Why don't you go get Grace moving. Tell her I'm making her favorite breakfast. Oh, and since this is the last day before radiation, I thought maybe we could take her out to do something fun?"

When I returned with our daughter twenty minutes later, the counter was covered with plates holding pancakes of various sizes. Each one was decorated with different toppings to resemble the nine planets, their names spelled out in chocolate syrup. One in particular stood out, sporting a series of "rings" done in whipped cream and strawberry preserves.

I looked at Edward in awe, and he winked, before turning his attention to Grace.

"Which planet do you want first?"

"I want Saturn!"

"You _always_ get Saturn. What if your mom wants Saturn?"

"Uh…mom, you don't want Saturn, do you?" She looked imploringly at me.

I toyed with her a little, adopting a serious expression as if contemplating my options.

"Hmmm…nah, that's ok. You can have it. Thanks for asking though."

She managed to eat her way through Saturn, Jupiter, and a good chunk of Venus before declaring herself full.

After some discussion, Grace decided she wanted to see the Mars Exhibit at the Pacific Science Center. The phone rang just as we were heading out the door.

Edward frowned. "It's probably…" He left the sentence unfinished as he walked back into the kitchen.

From the snippets of conversation I could overhear, I deduced it was Esme. When he finally rejoined us in the foyer he looked resolute.

"Everything okay?"

His mouth twisted into a grimace. "As good as it can be. Let's go."

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

My sleep was filled with strange dreams again that night, and I woke well before my alarm was set to go off. I snuck downstairs and hovered possessively over the coffee pot, as if I were El Chupacabra, and the brewing java was the last goat. Edward dragged himself into the kitchen a few minutes later, and it was clear he hadn't slept well either. I handed him a mug and we exchanged tired smiles.

It was a quiet ride to the hospital.

At 7:30 we were promptly ushered into an exam room where Grace would have the PICC line inserted as the final step before radiation was administered. Edward and I stroked her hair as she turned her face away, gripping her Bob Marley doll as the IV was placed into her right hand to deliver the sedative.

It worked swiftly, and I heard him take a deep breath as we watched her eyes flutter closed. Without thinking, I snaked my arm through his, and he bowed his head.

When the PICC team arrived, we were shown to an adjacent room where another nurse instructed us on cleaning and flushing the PICC line, and how to properly close the clamp to prevent the formation of blood clots. Grace would have to wear a shower sleeve to keep the area dry when bathing, and we were warned to constantly wash our hands and keep an eye out for any swelling, bleeding, or redness.

Since she'd be taken directly for radiation once they'd confirmed the PICC line placement, we were lead back to the waiting room. The minutes crawled by as I tried not to think about them threading the thin tube through her veins and into the vena cava. _They've done this a million times_, I reminded myself.

A hand gently touched my back. "They do this all the time. She'll be fine."

"_I know_." It came out surlier than I intended, but instead of withdrawing, he wrapped a reassuring arm around me. I leaned in and rested my eyes.

They were still closed when I heard the rumble of approaching voices.

"_Can't you for once think of what's best for her?"_

"_I'm not the one who's being selfish here."_

"_How dare you…"_

The argument escalated, and I couldn't help but stare at the angry couple as they swept by. They were probably about the same age as Edward and I, but the grief etched on their faces made them appear much older. I wondered how long their child had been sick.

Edward shifted and I knew he too had turned to watch. "That can't ever be us." He spoke under his breath. "Whatever happens, we can't make things harder on each other like that. Okay?"

I nodded, but wondered if either of us could really give that assurance.

After what seemed like an eternity, we were summoned to the recovery room where Grace was being monitored by a pediatric nurse. She was already awake and smiled gamely when she saw us.

I placed Bob back in her arms, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

She was fine. Everything would be fine.

I could breathe again.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

We rapidly established a routine. Monday through Friday Grace and I were at the hospital by 8:30. When she finished her sessions, we would go home and she would nap or watch cartoons until lunch; then we would have reading time. She'd take another nap mid-afternoon, waking up when Edward returned from work. After dinner, they would disappear into the piano room until it was almost time for bed.

During the third week, her hair began to fall out in large clumps. Knowing it would happen didn't make it any easier, but Grace handled it with her usual calm. She had more difficulty with the increasing fatigue, and complained that everything tasted funny, but otherwise seemed to feel okay. I was grateful, knowing it could be much worse.

After she was asleep for the night, Edward and I would curl up with a book or watch TV, sometimes falling into conversation that wasn't strictly about our daughter. I found I liked this adult version of him, and it made me sad we hadn't met when we were older.

Talking to my mother one afternoon, I'd lamented Grace losing her hair. A few days later a package arrived in the mail. Inside was a red, yellow, green, and black knitted cap accompanied by a card with palm trees on the front.

_Dearest Grace,_

_I thought maybe you and Mr. Marley would like to match. _

_Your granddad and I miss you very much. We'll come visit soon._

_Love,_

_Nana_

Grace's smile was dazzling. My heart filled as I silently thanked my mom for knowing exactly what to do.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

I was pulling into the driveway after running errands when my phone buzzed.

"Hey Bellisma…"

"Are we Italian this week?"

"We're anything you want us to be, bébé.''

"I think I liked you better when you were channeling Zoolander."

"Yeah, but you couldn't handle my Blue Steel."

"Like I would _ever_ handle your Blue Steel."

"Look, girlie, I'm actually calling for a reason. Wanted to remind you that Sam's getting married next weekend. I told him you probably wouldn't feel comfortable leaving Little G to come out, but I figured I should check with you just in case."

"You know, Grace is actually doing pretty well. I think if Edward is comfortable with me being away for a day, I could probably still go."

"Can you maybe just bring G with you? You know everyone would love to see her."

"I think...maybe not this time. Her white cell count is fine, but she's still really tired. And I'd rather not expose her to more people than we have to right now."

"Gotcha. Well, talk to Edward and let me know if you can make it. I really, really don't want to take Bree as my date."

"Ah, but I'm sure Bree would be happy to handle your Blue Steel."

"That's what I'm afraid of. Get it figured out and get back to me. Ciao…"

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

I broached the subject of the wedding the next evening after Grace had gone to bed.

"Do you remember Sam?"

Edward furrowed his brow as he tried to pull up the memory. "Tall guy? One of Jake's

friends, right?"

"He's my friend, too. I grew up with all those guys."

"I remember. They kind of gave me a hard time when we got together."

"No they didn't."

"Yeah, they did. Just not in front of you."

"Oh."

He shrugged and put his book down. "Doesn't matter now. Why do you ask?"

"Well…Sam is getting married next weekend and I was hoping to go if Grace is still feeling okay. But only if you're comfortable having her on your own for a full day."

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm as capable of calling the doctor as you are. Give me a little credit, please."

"I wasn't implying you weren't, but I didn't want to assume."

He waved a dismissive hand. "I can handle it." There was a pause. Then, "So … are you and Jake going together? Would you not be getting back until morning?"

"I'll drive back here afterward. I'm not going to be away from Grace overnight."

"I'd understand if you needed to stay over."

The pinched look on his face said otherwise.

"Appreciate that, but no. I just want to be with my friends for a bit, unwind a little. I probably won't have a chance to see most of them again until Grace and I move back home."

"Right. Okay."

He walked out of the room without another word.

I wondered exactly which part of our conversation had upset him.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

_Oh, my love_

_My darling_

_I've hungered for your touch…_

Watching Sam and Rosalie take their first dance, it was hard not to compare their joyful celebration to my own quiet wedding. When Edward and I married, his mother had insisted we keep things to immediate family only, and wanting her approval we'd agreed. In the greater scheme of things it hadn't really mattered – a more elaborate ceremony would have changed nothing in the end. But looking at my friends' glowing faces, there was a heaviness in my chest that shamed me. I was truly happy for them, but that didn't stop me from feeling a little jealous too.

As if sensing my conflict, Jake wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Leaning down he murmured, "It'll happen for you one day. The whole thing, not just the party and the pretty dress."

I felt my eyes tearing up and hugged him back. "It will happen for you too."

"Like I need an excuse to throw a party and wear a pretty dress…"

I stayed longer at the reception than I'd anticipated, just catching the last ferry back to Seattle. Driving through the nearly deserted streets, I thought about Grace and how soon we'd be able to move home. Her treatment seemed to be progressing according to plan, and I was secretly hopeful she might be able to return to school in the fall.

While waiting at a stoplight, a convertible with music blaring pulled up beside me. I glanced over at the woman driving and felt a shiver of recognition when she turned to look at me. Cropped black hair, the palest skin; I could see clearly she'd been crying. The light changed, and she roared off, the sound of Tom Petty's _Refugee _trailing behind her.

I was strangely unnerved.

It was close to 2 a.m. when I finally pulled into the driveway. I moved quietly around the first floor, feeling almost like I was sneaking in after curfew. After checking on Grace, I went back down to the kitchen, helping myself to some leftover pasta and a bottle of Pinot Noir.

I'd managed not to brood too much while at the wedding, but now that I was alone – and after a couple glasses of wine - redirecting my thoughts was much harder.

My friends were just now at the age where they were starting to get married. Not for the first time, I wondered how differently things might have turned out if Edward and I hadn't jumped so quickly into marriage and parenthood. Would we have managed to stay together through college? Would we be planning our wedding now?

But it was impossible to regret any course of action that resulted in the birth of my daughter. Whatever struggles it had caused- whatever the sacrifices – the one thing I was sure of was the rightness of our decision to keep her. The personal cost of that could not be measured against the joy she'd brought.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a crash, followed by a high-pitched howl coming from the backyard. Assuming a couple of neighborhood cats were scrapping, I flipped on the deck lights and grabbed the broom. Just beyond the circle of light on the patio I could make out a large figure slumped over in the farthest lounge chair. A little frission of fear coursed through me and I debated going inside to wake Edward.

"…_How do you solve a problem like Maria?"_

An intruder with a taste for musicals?

The idea was oddly reassuring, and I edged closer until I was almost within arm's reach. Suddenly the prowler lurched upright, and I jumped back, bringing the broom down on his head with a heavy _thud._

"Ow! What the devil?"

"Jasper?"

"That's me, on most days." He rubbed the back of his head gingerly. "Can't say I'm feeling much like myself at the moment, though."

"Oh God… are you alright?"

"I've been better." Blurry eyes regarded me with confusion.

"I'm _so_ sorry. I didn't realize...when I first came out, I thought you were a couple of cats."

"I'm sure if I were even half sober, that would make sense."

"Are you sober enough to tell me what you're doing in Edward's backyard?"

"Your greeting was still warmer than the one I got when I tried to enter my own home earlier this evening."

"Ah."

"I fear my wife may have already changed the locks."

I patted his shoulder tentatively. "I'm sure it's not as bad as all that."

His tone was mournful. "She's done it before."

I realized I knew nothing about Jasper's personal life. Maybe it really_ was_ that bad. "Why don't you come inside, and I'll get you set up on the couch. I'm sure Edward must have some extra blankets."

"I'd be most appreciative." He rose to his feet, listing perilously to one side before managing to right himself.

"Why don't you let me give you a hand? You've obviously had a rough night."

I held his arm as we crossed the patio and climbed the back steps. Once inside I urged him to sit. "I'm going to get you some water and a couple of Advil, okay? Then I'll make up the couch."

When I returned, he'd taken off his shoes and was attempting to do the same with his pants.

"Oh, no, no, wait...I'm not sure that's…" I hastily averted my eyes. At least he wasn't going commando.

As Jasper settled in, I handed him the glass and promised pills. "You'll hate your life a lot less in the morning if you drink the whole thing."

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Your husband…is a good man."

"Get some sleep."

I flipped off the light and closed the door.

That Jasper had come to Edward for refuge was not lost on me.

* * *

**A/N- **Well, it's certainly been a long time. There are no words to apologize for the length of wait for this chapter. This has been a life-changing year, but I'm hoping things will be better moving forward.

The quotes in the beginning of the chapter are from the hilarious movie Zoolander.

Jake's ringtone lyrics are from LMFAO's _Party Rock Anthem_.

The lyrics from Sam and Rosalie's first dance are from the song _Unchained Melody_.

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Immortal for having shepherded this story through its first 11 chapters.

As for this chapter, my thanks are many-

Christy and Laura, for never losing faith even when it looked like it would never happen.

Alla, Violet, Hilary and HapyMelt for their valuable input and reassurance.

Ellie for the medical guidance.

Jess for the car idea.

Any mistakes in this chapter are mine alone.


	13. Chapter 13

_**When we last met our hero and heroine, they were tentatively moving towards a more peaceful domestic arrangement. Grace was undergoing radiation, Bella visited Port Angeles for a friend's wedding, and Jasper fought with his wife, consuming an unhealthy amount of alcohol which landed him in Edward's backyard, and eventually on the couch.**_

* * *

_Your husband…is a good man._

Long after I'd crawled into bed, his words lingered

A benediction

Sleep finally came, and I dreamt

…_now these things remain…_

White tulle and silk

Polished marble and calla lilies

…_but the greatest of these is love._

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

It took a moment for my sleep-fogged brain to comprehend that someone was knocking on the bedroom door. Before I could orient myself enough to respond, there was a high pitched giggle followed by the clomp of little feet fleeing down the stairs.

Once out of bed, I noticed a piece of paper had been slipped under the door. Resembling a giant playing card, it had red hearts adorning the corners, and a surprisingly detailed drawing of a man wearing a crown. Faint pencil marks were visible beneath the crayon and I realized Edward had sketched the figure to give Grace a framework over which to color. Across the bottom in my daughter's blocky script were the words "YOU ARE INVITED TO A MOST WONDERFUL TEA PARTY."

The invitation implied a certain formality, so I showered and took the time to tame my hair and put on something that couldn't be mistaken for pajamas. By the time I made my appearance, everyone had already assembled in the formal dining room; Edward, Grace, Bob Marley, Kanga the Kangaroo, and a miserable looking Jasper.

At my overly cheerful greeting, he winced, earning me an admonishment from Grace.

"Mommy, you have to talk really quiet. Mister Jasper's head hurts." Clearly more entertained than sympathetic, she further confided, "He said a bad word when I woke him up, but then he said he was sorry."

"Did you apologize for waking him up?"

"…no…"

"Well?"

Eyes downcast, she mumbled, "Sorry I jumped on the couch and woke you up, Mister Jasper."

"S'all right. I know you didn't mean any harm."

She favored him with a brilliant smile, her momentary contrition forgotten.

The table was set for eight, and I was in the process of sliding into the vacant seat next to Grace when she stopped me.

"You can't sit there. It's for Alice. Didn't you see the cup?"

I raised an inquiring eye to Edward who gave a _who-knows?_ shrug as I moved into the remaining open spot.

"Are we expecting an Alice?"

"Alice will come." Her quiet certainty was unsettling.

"Alrighty, then." I turned my attention to the spread before us.

In the center of the table sat the exquisitely painted Wonderland teapot. Next to it was a carafe of strong smelling coffee with a placard identifying it as "Grown-Up Tea." There was a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon and another of mini-sandwiches. Rounding out the offering was a tray labeled "Honorary Tarts," which looked suspiciously like scones.

"Wow; this is quite a feast. You guys did a great job."

"I made the sandwiches mostly by myself. Dad messed up the tarts. They didn't taste good _at all_." She crinkled her nose.

"Well, tarts can sometimes be tricky," I consoled her.

"And more trouble than they're worth."

Jasper's muttered contribution had Edward averting his face in an effort not to laugh.

"But I _like_ tarts," Grace insisted, a stubborn tilt to her chin.

"Lots of people do," Edward soothed, his lips twitching with amusement. "In fact, it's quite normal to like tarts, especially when you're young."

"Some people like them even more when they're adults."

Apparently the opportunity to drive a bad pun into the ground acted as a curative for Jasper's hangover.

Before she could figure out we were no longer discussing pastries, I decided to take control of the conversation. "At some point, _most_ people begin to prefer healthier alternatives. Things with less…sugar."

Edward and Jasper were openly laughing now, and I threw up my hands in mock surrender. Grace regarded us with narrow-eyed derision, aware she'd been left out of the joke. I was definitely going to hear about it later.

The rest of breakfast was blessedly free of innuendo. Edward acted as server, heaping generous amounts on everyone's plates, Bob and Kanga included. Amazingly, Jasper's appetite appeared unaffected by the previous night's excess, and more than once, I saw him filch food from our stuffed guests.

The only distraction from an otherwise pleasant meal was the extra place setting reserved for the mysterious Alice. My eyes kept sliding to the empty seat next to Grace, half expecting to find it suddenly filled.

The guys were finishing off the last of the scones-as-tarts when the doorbell rang. One glance at Edward's jam-covered fingers and I waved him off.

It wasn't until I was opening the door that it occurred to me our caller might be Esme. Instead, a slender brunette in painfully high heels waited impatiently, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Without thinking, I blurted, "Are you Alice?"

The woman assessed me coolly before raising a well groomed brow. "Not so much. But I'm guessing you must be the ex-wife. Jasper isn't bothering to answer his phone. I know he's here, and I need to speak with him. Now."

She brushed past me into the foyer, and I scrambled to keep ahead of her.

With as much politeness as I could muster, I steered the frosty Maria toward the living room. "You two can talk in here. I'll go get him." Without waiting for a response, I went to fetch Jasper.

He was already on his feet, shoulders slumped in resignation. I wanted to tell him he didn't have to go talk to her, but held my tongue. I knew better than to interfere in someone else's marriage.

Impulsively, I gave him a hug. "She's in the living room. Come get one of us if you need anything."

Edward disappeared upstairs while I took our daughter to the backyard to visit Sushi. Almost immediately, we heard raised voices, and I quickly tried to put distance between us and the house. Halfway to the koi pond, I noticed something glinting in the sun and scooped up Jasper's errant phone. A little voice in my head whispered that I hoped somewhere in his contacts list was the number of a really good marriage counselor – or a ferocious divorce attorney.

Less than ten minutes later, we heard the front door slam. By the time Grace and I re-entered the house, Edward and Jasper were already holed up in Edward's study. Throughout the afternoon, I did my best to keep Grace occupied – and from lurking in front of the office door – but her anxiety increased exponentially as the day wore on. When they finally emerged, Grace hurled herself into her surprised father's arms. He held her for a long moment before gently disengaging.

"Honey, I need to speak with your mom privately for a bit. Can you help Jasper rustle up some food?"

He gave her a nudge, and she nodded solemnly, tugging Jasper in the direction of the kitchen.

When they were safely out of earshot, Edward indicated we should sit. He rubbed his eyes, weariness making him seem considerably older. "Jazz is in a really shitty position right now. Would it be okay if he stayed here for a few days while making arrangements to move onto his boat? If you're not comfortable with it, he can figure something else out, so it's totally up to you."

There'd be no question of Jasper staying if Grace and I weren't already in residence. I was touched Edward was willing to let me make the decision when he was so clearly worried about his friend. I didn't even have to think about it.

"Of course he can stay. I'll get the spare room made up if you don't mind me shuffling some of your stuff around to make room."

"Do whatever you need to." He touched my hand as he murmured _thank you._

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

Grace carefully placed spoonfuls of cookie dough onto a greased baking sheet as I pulled out the ingredients for the next recipe.

"Why are we making so much stuff for Mister Jasper?"

"You heard your dad talking about Jasper moving onto his boat, right? I thought it would be really nice if we put together some food for him for while he was getting settled. "

"Why's he gonna live on his boat?"

"Ah… he and his wife aren't getting along very well right now. If they spend a little time apart, maybe they'll be able to talk to each other nicely again."

"Is that what dad did?"

I froze. "What do you mean?"

"When dad went away, he was on a boat with Uncle Alec. He showed me pictures. And you guys are nice to each other now."

"Well… not exactly. Your dad didn't go live on a boat; he was working for your uncle's charter company and going to school."

"Oh." She turned it over in her mind for a moment. "How come he didn't come see us? He must have been really mad."

And there it was.

Despite the butterflies in my stomach, I strove to keep my tone even. "He wasn't angry at you, I promise. Sometimes adults fight or have problems they don't know how to handle, and it seems easier to try to work it out by themselves."

"Couldn't you have helped?"

"Maybe, but he never asked for my help."

"I bet he thought you were mad and wouldn't talk to him."

A denial was on my lips when I paused. In those first months after Edward left, I'd raged at his abandonment, cried at the prospect of raising our daughter alone, and wondered almost obsessively where he'd found me lacking. What I hadn't done – had been too afraid to do – was force a conversation. I hadn't tried to contest the divorce, hadn't insisted on a face to face meeting before signing papers, hadn't done anything but go along with what Esme's lawyers suggested. It was understandable that, at nineteen and with an infant, I'd been too overwhelmed to demand answers. But once the dust settled, I'd buried the whole thing, never making a real, concerted effort to track him down and insist he step up and have a relationship with Grace.

In actuality, I'd done what was most comfortable for me. The insight set me back on my heels.

"Mom?" My daughter's concerned face peered up at me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, honey. And you're a very smart girl."

"I know."

"Oh, you do, huh?"

"Yup. Dad told me. He said I'm smarter than both of you."

"Your father is undoubtedly right. "

"There's a first time for everything, but I won't let it go to my head."

I startled at the sound of Edward's voice as his hand gently squeezed my shoulder. Grinning, he swiped a finger-full of cookie dough and popped it in his mouth. "I may not be as smart as Gracie, but I'd like to think I'm smarter than I was."

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

"Mommy, is this it?" Graced gazed with wide-eyed wonder at the sleek craft in front of us.

I double-checked the piece of paper in my hand. "It must be."

At least 45 feet long, with a shiny blue hull and "Every Liddell Thing" in red on the stern, even I could tell it was an especially nice boat.

"Hey there!" Jasper motioned us over.

He lifted Grace carefully onto the deck, then offered me a hand.

I presented him with the basket we'd brought, and his brow furrowed. "What's this?"

"We thought you might like—"

"Cookies!" Grace almost quivered with excitement.

"You made me cookies?" He looked taken aback.

"And a few other things." I was suddenly flustered. Was it such a small town thing to do? "I wasn't sure…I mean, I didn't know if you'd have a way to cook anything, so I thought—"

"Well, aren't you the sweetest. I haven't managed to do any shopping yet, so this is perfect." Grinning widely, he waved a hand toward the cabin. "Can I give you a tour?"

The inside was all varnished wood and stainless steel; the square footage had to be more than my first apartment. It even had built-in bookcases.

I wandered around, poking my head into the well equipped galley.

"How many people does this thing sleep?"

"Technically ten. But comfortably, about six. We'll go out sometime, if you'd like. Edward and I have taken her through the San Juans several times, and even up into Canada. He's mentioned wanting to take Grace along, but…ah, he didn't think you'd agree to it."

He was right. Two months ago I hadn't even been aware Edward knew how to sail, and wouldn't have cared in any case.

I smiled down at my daughter. "What do you think kiddo? Maybe in a few months, if the weather's good?"

We chatted a little more, but Grace was clearly tiring, so we said good-bye, and I carried her up to the marina parking lot. As I maneuvered her drowsy form into the car, I heard a bright peal of laughter.

My eyes were pulled to the jogging trails adjacent to the marina, finally fixing on a pair of retreating figures.

Unable to look away, I watched until they faded into the distance.

‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›‹•›

That night, Grace was fatigued enough that she took herself to bed early, leaving me with unexpected time to catch up on correspondence and pay bills. In an effort to put off confronting my dwindling savings, I opted to answer emails first.

I read through several from Leah, one from Rosalie (who emails while on their honeymoon?), a lengthy missive from my mother, and a brief note from Jake confirming our plans for his visit over the Fourth of July weekend.

Buried at the bottom of my inbox was something from the Port Angeles School District inquiring about my availability to return to work in the fall. Grabbing the calendar used to track Grace's appointments, I counted off the remaining weeks of radiation. She would then need another MRI and further labs, followed by a recheck in a month. That would bring us to the middle of August.

If all went well, I was hopeful they'd allow the chemo portion of her treatment to be done closer to home. She was happy enough here, but she was also lonely for kids her own age and had started to ask about going back to school. I felt a twinge of guilt, aware that our return to Port Angeles meant a separation from her father, but there was nothing that could be done about it. It's where we lived, where my job and all our friends and family were.

Most of her family.

I jotted off a note to the district explaining I couldn't yet give them a firm commitment, then reluctantly began to tackle the pile of bills.

Even with the added economy of living with Edward, my resources were stretched. I divided the bills into "must pay now" and "can put off another month" before hopping online to start making payments.

While verifying my bank balance, the figure I saw didn't match with my personal tally. I scrolled through the transactions and spotted a sizable deposit the previous week that I knew I hadn't made. Either there'd been a bank error, or my parents had added money to my account. The latter seemed unlikely - there'd been no mention of it in Renee's email, and I couldn't imagine how they'd have managed that large a sum.

Fear that my dad might have sold his beloved boat made me pick up the phone. A short conversation later, and I knew the money hadn't come from them. I looked again at the deposit, this time thinking to click on the transaction icon, and had my answer.

Should I be offended at Edward's presumption or grateful for his generosity? A month ago, I would have made a point of rejecting his help out of hand. What did it say about me – and about our current relationship – that instead of anger at his interference, I felt…thankful and cared for, and maybe a little teary?

I could hear Edward shuffling around in the next room, and knew, without having to look, that he was talking himself into herbal tea when what he really wanted was cocoa. I hesitated, wondering at my motivation for what I was about to do, then closed the laptop and joined him in the kitchen.

"Hey, I have a craving for some hot chocolate. Do you want to sit with me and have some?"

Mugs in hand, we made ourselves comfortable in the living room. Reclining into an overstuffed chair, Edward closed his eyes, seemingly content in the silence. I tucked my feet under me and waited for the right time to speak.

Finally I offered, "Grace and I dropped off Jasper's care package this afternoon, and he gave us a tour of the boat. I was surprised how nice it was."

"Oh yeah, she's beautiful. It should work out pretty well."

"I know it's none of my business, so you don't have to tell me, but what's the deal with Jasper and his wife?"

Edward grimaced, his eyes still closed. "They've had problems as long as I've known him. But I think it was always volatile, even at the beginning. Glad he's finally fed up enough to do something about it."

"Do you think he'll go back to her?"

He leaned forward and scowled. "He'd better not."

The vehemence in his voice made me wonder if Jasper and his wife's marital woes went beyond basic incompatibility.

"What if they got counseling?"

"It's not possible to make Maria happy. She's like an emotional vampire. Dealing with her bullshit is a constant drain on him. And she's scary when she's truly angry; I've seen it. He needs to get away from her and be done with it, but he's hung-up on the divorce thing."

"In what way?"

"Doesn't believe in it. He was raised Catholic and still goes to Mass sometimes, which is weird 'cuz he's also a Buddhist. I had no idea until he crashed over here one night, and I got up early and found him sitting in the lotus position, buck naked and chanting."

I had no problem visualizing _that_.

"It sounds weird, but there's something almost old fashioned about him. A real sense of honor, I guess. Nothing like Maria."

"Makes you wonder why they got married."

"No idea. Probably for the same reasons most people get married. A combination of love, lust, and social pressure."

"Or a case of the babies, like us," I joked.

Edward shook his head emphatically. "That wasn't why."

"What do you mean?"

He stared at me so intently I felt myself flush.

"I didn't marry you because of Grace. I only married you sooner."

* * *

_As ever, I am eternally grateful to Hilary, Alla, Christy, and Laura. _

_Thanks for keeping the faith._


End file.
